


The Class Assignment

by RiverRadagain



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:28:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 53,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25186396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverRadagain/pseuds/RiverRadagain
Summary: It was a stunningly simple concept; a physical manifestation of the human soul out in the open world. Could a class assignment really change your life, or does it just point out the obvious? Disclaimer! I don't own Harry Potter, only this story, the plot line, and any OC's I may introduce. Rated M for language and mature content in later chapters !CURRENTLY REWRITING!
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

The Class Assignment – Could a potion, really change your life forever? Would it really tell you who you were supposed to be with for the rest of your life? That is simply just not possible, it is just a stupid class assignment right? Nothing could really come of it I'm sure. Disclaimer!: I don't own Harry Potter, only this story, the plot line, and any OC's I may introduce.

2nd Disclaimer! I don't own Harry Potter, only this story, the plot line, and any OC's I may introduce. In this chapter I’ll be introducing two OC’s. Other than that, I am also trying to keep this first chapter as close to the original book as possible. So anything pulled from those references does not belong to me, nor do I claim them too. As to what I have referenced to in this story to help it along, one may look in J.K. Rowling's third book of the series "Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban." Most, if not all; references should be found in chapter one. Okay, now that we have that out of the way, let’s continue!

A/N: Hey Everyone!! I know it’s been a long time since I’ve done anything with this story, and I’m sorry about that. However, because it has been so long since I’ve posted anything for this story. I feel that with having my writing skills improved, it is about time that I give this story another editing. I am still in the market for a beta on this story, so if I do not catch every issue I apologize. Should you be interested in being the beta for this story please PM me! Without further ado; ON WITH THE STORY!

Chapter one: The project

Rhythmic drumming of fingers atop a hard oak desk was the only sound to be heard echoing down the large long empty corridors of the dungeons in Hogwarts. A figure cloaked in black sat perched on the edge of his chair trying to formulate ideas for the up and coming school year curriculum. 

Certain that he needed something new for these incoming third-years something that would be challenging, and interesting; both to him, and the children that would be executing it this term. As he tired of the repetitive well-known curriculum that he and the students had been subjected to for far too many years. Those plans, ones that even he had been forced to labor over during his days as a student at Hogwarts, were as old and worn as the pages of a Librarian's favorite book. Long skinny fingers dragged themselves through greasy black hair as frustration began to set in.

Nothing. He had absolutely nothing. Not a single idea had slithered through his mind. Nor were there any frayed strings left for him to pluck at, to plunder, or revise. He, Professor Severus Snape, was lost. 

Letting out a frustrated groan, as he dragged a hand down his long angular face, he began peeling himself off of his sticky uncomfortable chair; deciding that perhaps, like all other times, a long leisurely stroll through the castle might help. 

Wandering around the corridors of Hogwarts was a wonderful mental blockage remover, the magical castle was never low on inspiration even in the dead of summer. Though this time around, the clacking of his shoes off the immense stone floors down one of the various hallways that Hogwarts had to offer did little to alleviate Snape’s mental hindrance. It wasn't until he was passing by the transfiguration classroom on the ground floor of Hogwarts. Just past the courtyard, where his co-worker Minerva McGonagall was, he came to a stop. 

Minerva was a windy old woman, whose hair was almost permanently pulled into a knot atop her head. She was presently perched over a bare bit of parchment, a quill in one hand and a perfectly manicured claw tapping at her cheek.

'Oh! Manerva, that old cat.’ Snape thought quickly. ‘Perhaps she could offer me some ideas or insight on my predicament’. The sharp rap of his knuckles on the propped wooden door caused the elderly woman to jump slightly from surprise, pulling a soft chuckle from his chest.

"Severus! You gave me quite the fright.” Manerva sighed as she held a hand over her heart, in an effort to keep her still clamoring organ inside it’s rightful chest cavity. When Snape said nothing to her comment but instead kept still at the entrance to her classroom she continued “Is there anything in particular I can help you with? " Came the still shocked, yet surprisingly young tones of the ancient professor's vocal cords. 

"If you could. I need some help deciding on a new and interesting core curriculum for my third-year potions class. While I was sitting down in my office trying to come up with anything that was aberrant to last year's classes; I found that I, and my precocious mind, had drawn a blank. Perhaps you would have a few ideas for me to pillage?" He inquired reluctantly, never the one to enjoy asking for help. 

Snape watched as she tapped her bony old fingers on her chin with her eyes raised toward the roof of the room, a continuous shifting of her vision. It was clear to him that she was scouring through decades of information; having both worked beside and learned under many of the past Potions Professors that roamed these halls, she offered a firsthand account of their chosen curriculums. All stored in the depths of her practically primeval mind. 

The fog cleared from her eyes just before she physically brightened with what could only be compared to the wattage of a 100 watt muggle light bulb being turned on. She smiled at him like a giddy schoolgirl, as she declared that she had just the thing. “This could solve both our curriculum troubles.”

With the ticking of a clock, one twelve year old boy with messy black hair and glasses lay clutching a flashlight in one hand and reading a large leather-bound book titled "A History of Magic" by Bathilda Bagshot, that was currently propped against his pillow. Harry scanned the pages for a specific quote, one that he required to continue writing his essay assigned by one of his least favorite teachers, Professor Binns. An assignment that was to be done over the summer holidays. 

Slowly his eyes skimmed the pages again, having missed what he was looking for the first time around in his haste; it wasn't long before his eyes danced with glee and his mouth twitched upward with triumph. Plucking a quill from his bed he dipped the tip into a well of black ink and continued to write. Being careful not to make much of a ruckus, as to avoid waking any of the Dursley family.

For the Dursleys of number four Privet Drive were the very reason that Harry so loathed the summer holidays.

Whenever Hogwarts wasn't in session, he was forced to stay with his Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and their only son Dudley, being that they were his sole remaining living relatives.

Unfortunately, they were muggles; muggles that had an ever so particularly medieval attitude about magic and the likes of anything that wasn't perfectly normal. So much so, that the very mention of anything "freaky" or of something that was connected to the possibility of anything supernatural would land Harry; an ever so luxurious stay locked away in the cupboard under the stairs for the rest of summer break.

This summer in particular Harry was exceedingly keen to stay out of trouble with his relatives; as they were already in an especially bad mood with him because he had received a telephone call from one of his wizard friends only weeks into the holidays. Where most unluckily it had been Uncle Vernon that had answered the phone, immediately he had then been subjected to a bellowing pure-blooded wizard boy, who had never once in his life used a phone before.

Ron having been raised in a completely magical society since birth, had never had any need for anything mundanely muggle such as that. When one wizard could easily just apparate, floo, owl, or charm their way into a connection with the wizard they were seeking. Needless to say, the conversation didn't go over too well, when Uncle Vernon was subjected to the decidedly mountainous calls of one confused Ronald Weasley. 

The fight that had immediately ensued then after was one of the worst ever. Though Ronald who was thankfully smart enough to realize he had gotten Harry into trouble, didn't call again. He, however, clearly wasn't smart enough to realize not to warn Hermione against contacting Harry in a similar way. As Harry's other dear friend from school Hermione Granger, being the cleverest witch of their age, and of who was much more likely to remember that Harry's family wasn't a fan of anything "freaky"; along with being born in a muggle family. Would've known then how to properly use a phone, and to have enough sense to not say that she went to Hogwarts.

Due to this series of unfortunate events, poor Harry had heard little to no word from any of his wizarding friends for weeks. ‘This summer was turning out to be almost as bad as the last one.’ Harry thought. 

He had almost believed all of Hogwarts to be a dream, thanks to Dobby’s interference last year. Harry had been left with only his feathery companion Hedwig to reassure him that in fact, it had been real. This summer he had only a minor improvement of being allowed to release Hedwig from her cage and let her out flying, enabling Harry to maintain at least minimal contact with his dearly missed friends. So that as Uncle Vernon kindly put it, Hedwig would "Cease that vial screeching."

As Harry finished writing about Wendelin the weird, he paused, straining his ears to hear if there was any noise coming from the halls in the form of one of the Dursley family. Yet the silence of the house was only to be broken by the demonic snores of his larger than life uncle Vernon, that rattled the cupboard in his bedroom. 

Satisfied that he was the only waking creature left alive in number four Privet Drive, stretching a bit he came to the conclusion that it must be very late. Capping the bottle of ink and wiping down his quill, Harry rolled up his parchment paper and snatched up his book. Pulling out an old pillowcase from under his bed, and slipped his school supplies snuggly into it. He lifted a loose board from the flooring under his bed, where he hid away his school things leaving them to be revised at another time.

As he stood to stretch out his cramping muscles more properly this time, he glanced at the alarm clock that sat precariously perched on his bedside table. Where its brightly shining digits delegated the late hour of one in the morning. Harry's stomach dropped as he came to the realization that it was his birthday. 

He had just turned thirteen and hadn't even noticed it. Though he never particularly enjoyed his birthdays, as unusual as that sounds, it was with very good reason. Harry had never received so much as a birthday card from anyone; and Uncle Vernon was always particularly testy on this day over the fact that they would be subjected to housing a freak beneath their roof for yet another year. However, since he had begun attending school at Hogwarts, the Dursleys had taken to completely ignoring his birthday all together for the past two years; and there was no reason to believe that this year would be any different.

With this thought, he walked over to the open window, right next to Hedwig's large unlatched cage, to let the cool breeze brush against his heated cheeks. After so long under the blankets, it was a much-appreciated reprieve. 

With a soft sigh, he silently wished that Hedwig had come back home from her two day long absence. Her being the only living creature in number four Privet Drive that didn't flinch in disgust at the sight of him, and the only person he was allowed to celebrate his birthday with. 

Though still rather small and skinny for his age, Harry had grown at least a few inches over the last year. His jet-black hair was just as it had always been, stubbornly unkempt, no matter what he might try to do in taming it. With his bright green eyes behind circular glasses, and there on his forehead only slightly covered by his bangs was a strangely shaped scar that looked remarkably like a bolt of lightning.

Bright green clashed with the starry night sky as he searched for any sign of his beloved owl coming back to him. It was within a few moments of lazily gazing at the rooftops that Harry noticed a black shape that was currently moving towards him. He squinted at the dark moving shadow that was slightly lopsided before leaning back in worry, not recognizing said shape from anywhere and not being able to discern as to whether or not this form would be either friend or foe. Harry silently wondered if he should close the window, uncertain of just what that lopsided creature was, before simply deciding against it and stepping back out of the way. As a familiar squawk had reached his ears just before three owls came soaring into his room. 

Landing with a dull soft thud on his bed, the middle owl immediately keeled over and fell unconscious. Harry recognized his owl right away and welcomed Hedwig with an adoring scratch behind her ears, of which she received him with an affectionate nip to his fingers. The other owl that was also carrying a package, which was now in a slumped pile on his bed, he recognized to be Errol, the Weasley's owl. Reaching down, Harry unleashed him from his luggage and carried him over to Hedwig's cage so that he could hydrate and rest. Errol opened one bleary eye, gave a feeble hoot of gratitude, and began to gulp up some water. 

As Harry walked back over to the other two owls still in the room. Taking the letter from Hedwig as she too was carrying a parcel before she ruffled her feathers looking rather proud of herself, and then went flying over to join Errol within her cage. Harry set it aside with the oversized package from the Weasleys before taking the letter and package from the last owl that was clearly from Hogwarts, based on the bright red Hogwarts crest that dawned the envelope. Said owl then puffed its chest in an importantly looking way, and took off through the window. 

With shaky hands, he sat down peering at the pile of things that he had just acquired. Nervously picking at his shirt seams he debated over which thing to open first. Making up his mind, he grabbed Errol's package, ripped it open, and discovered a present wrapped in gold, and his first ever birthday card. In shock, Harry opened the envelope carefully, though as he was opening the card itself two pieces of paper fell out, a letter and a newspaper clipping.

The clipping had clearly come from the daily prophet because the people in the black-and-white picture were moving. Plucking the article up from his lap he smoothed out the wrinkles and read:  
MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE  
SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE

Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic has won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw. 

A Delighted Mr. Weasley told the Daily Prophet,  
"We will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where our oldest son, Bill, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank."

The Weasley family will be spending a month in Egypt, returning for the start of the new school year at Hogwarts, which five of the Weasley children currently attend.

After reading the passage, Harry glanced up at the picture on the page and couldn't keep the smile from his face as he saw all eleven of the Weasleys waving furiously at him standing in front of a large pyramid. 

From left to right in the picture there was Arthur, Molly, two Weasleys Harry had never met but was assumed to be Bill and Charlie. Then there was Aaron and his twin Samual, of which Harry had only had the pleasure of meeting once, as they were in their seventh year of Hogwarts during his first. Both being only a year older than Percy who was followed immediately by Fred and George, then there was his best mate Ron, and his little sister Ginny. 

Even if Harry tried he couldn't think of a family that was more deserving of a break, and the winnings of a large pile of gold than the Weasleys. Who were always so warm and welcoming to him, taking him in when needed and doing their best to shelter all nine of their children on one working parent’s salary. Still beaming happily, Harry plucked Ron's letter from his bed and opened it up to read it. 

In typical Ron fashion, the letter was as informal as it gets. With incomplete sentences, improper punctuation, and a few run-ons here and there. All wishing Harry a happy birthday, then rambling on about their trip and how exciting it all was. If it was at all possible, Harry's smile widened as he thought over how Hermione would've cringed at this small letter. Ever the perfectionist, you would never see these kinds of problems with a letter from her. 

Continuing on, there was another small wrapped package inside. Upon opening that, Harry began to wonder just how much stuff the Weasleys had sent him. Entirely unused to being pampered like this, he made a mental note to give Ron a good thump on the head. 

Opening what looked like a miniature glass spinning top, apparently what Ron called a Pocket Sneakoscope. Stating that it is supposed to light up and spin if there is someone untrustworthy around. Setting it down on his bedside table, it stood still and clear on its tip. Perhaps it didn't work? Was all that Harry could think, for he knew the Dursleys were  
untrustworthy people. Picking up Rons letter once again he read. “Though the bloody thing might already be broken, kept going off every time scabbers and I went to bed.” 

Harry chuckled as he pictured a tired flustered Ron screaming at the Sneakoscope to stop every night. No wonder he had gifted it to Harry. Surely it was because Ron couldn't stand the constant interruption to his “beauty sleep” as if there was anything beautiful about the way Ron would sprawl himself across the dormitory beds, limbs twitching and the occasional snore that could give Uncle Vernon a run for his money. Which was impressive considering that sound came from a tremendously smaller body than that of his Uncle’s. 

Brushing it off with a shake of his head and moving on to package that Hedwig had brought, Harry instantly recognized Hermione's intricate handwriting on the box. His stomach flipped, and his hands trembled for reasons he couldn't quite understand as he anxiously tore into it. Surely it was just because he was excited to be hearing from both his friends on his birthday. 

‘That must be it.’ Harry affirmed silently in his head as the wrapping of the package fell away.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Just so you all know I don't own Harry Potter, the books or movies. There will be a lot that will be referenced from them so that I can use plenty of facts to support the story as I write it. I will be taking lots of liberties with the story and this plotline is not even close to the original. I would also like to give early credit to the fans whose theories inspired parts of my story. I follow a fan theory's blog on Tumblr, and there are a lot of really wonderful theories there that I find completely mind blowing. Though I will not be specifying which ones I will be using just yet, I do encourage you all to look through them and follow that blog because it's wonderful. 

A/N: Wise English Professors once told me, the art of writing is in the rewriting. It takes time and effort to take scribbles and squiggles on a page, and turn them into entire worlds. Just as it is impossible to learn how to read overnight; it is impossible to be born a great writer. 

In honor of the only two people in the world that have renewed my vigor for writing. Here is one more rewrite for the books; and so we begin chapter number two. 

P.S. This chapter turned out to be a bit of a hefty read. So if you don’t have enough time to read what totals to 20 word document pages; then I suggest setting it aside for now. 

Chapter two: Book lists, Disagreements, and Secrets

The package contained two wrapped presents of almost equal size and weight, a birthday card, and a letter. Anxious to hear from Hermione, Harry snatched up her letter tearing it open. 

Dear Harry,

Ron wrote to me about the unfortunate phone call between him and your boorish uncle. I do hope he didn't cause too much trouble for you, and that you're alright. Though I am sorry it had to happen at your expense I would've been delighted at the chance to have been there to witness Ronald’s attempt at utilizing a perfectly muggle-worthy thing. 

I would've been in contact sooner, even with Ronald’s earnest implication against it; but my family and I are on holiday in France at the moment. Sadly my efforts to convince my parents to purchase a wizard post owl for our family, have thus far been thwarted; therefore I was unable to mail you regularly this summer. 

In truth, I didn't even know how I was going to send these presents to you. I just kept thinking what if they checked it in customs! How does one explain these contents to full grown muggles without exposing the entire wizarding community? You don’t! That is, not without looking tremendously bonkers. I presume this is the reason we wizards use owls, or other magical methods of communication and transportation. One can always trust that an owl won’t go sticking their beaks into the business of their owners, that is so long as there aren't any owl treats inside.

\- Harry chortled to himself as he pictured Hermione sitting before him rambling as she was. Exactly how she did every time she grew nervous. He could see her clearly in his mind's eye; biting the tip of her eraser as she contemplated starting over -for what was sure to be the hundredth time- once she realized that she had prattled on again. -

Then by some miracle Hedwig turned up! She must have really wanted to be sure you got something for your birthday for a change, or at least I think that's why she flew all the way here.  
I perceive that you're probably mad at me for sending two presents, but I just couldn't decide which to send you so I just had to send both! One of your presents I procured by owl-order; there was an advertisement in the Daily Prophet (I've been getting it delivered, it's a great way to keep up on everything that's happening in the Wizarding world.). The second present I'll leave as a surprise altogether, but I am hopeful you’ll enjoy it.

Did Ron send you that picture of him and his family in Egypt from a week ago? He said he would, but I just had to ask. I'm just so jealous, the ancient Egyptians are just fascinating, I bet he's learning loads! - On second thought knowing Ron, he's probably more interested in the food than the knowledge there. Though I've been doing a bit of my own local research here in France. It's very interesting how a lot of ancient France’s witchcraft had a lot to do with love. I've even rewritten my whole History of Magic essay to include some of the things I've learned here. I hope it's not too long though it's a whole two parchment papers more than what Professor Bins asked for.

Ron said he'll be back in London for the last week of the holidays, and I'll probably be back sometime this week. I wanted to get a headstart on my readings for this year, so I convinced my mum and dad to let me come back before them and stay at the Leaky Caldron.  
Will you be able to make it? 

If not, I'll see you on the Hogwarts Express on September 1st!

With Love,  
Hermione

P.S. Ron says Percy's Head boy this year. I bet Percy is thrilled with the news, though Ron didn't seem particularly pleased. Something about having to listen to him at home already, and not wanting to be bothered with it at school. 

Nearly in stitches, Harry set her letter aside plucking one of the presents off his lap. He admired the beautiful red wrapping as the gift instantly grew ten times in size and weight. Harry, once again astonished by the wonders of magic, marveled at the gift both with a begrudging impatiens; and an unwillingness to ruin the beautifully implemented wrappings.

He weighed it in his hands; making guesses at what it could be hiding inside. ‘Knowing Hermione’ Harry thought. ‘It’s probably a large book; that’s full of spells.’ Typically she would highly recommend ‘a bit of light reading’ over the summer holidays and he knew that Hermione’s definition of “light” meant very difficult spells. A book that would generally be unusual to see in the hands of a thirteen year old. But not unusual for Hermione. 

His head was abuzz with the images of her as she read each page; envisioning the way she would frough her brow in concentration as she scoured thought every spell hundreds of times. Certain that if this were a book, then Hermione had already committed each spell to memory; and she meant for him to read it in its entirety before the end of the holidays. Both to challenge him and give him an edge during their next school term. 

Shaking his head Harry recalled their spring term at Hogwarts last year, where Hermione had insisted that regardless of the impending parel of the chamber of secrets; their professors wouldn't lax on their studies. She had even gone as far to accurately predict what specific spells, and potions they would spend extensive time on. He knew this particular unruly haired girl, with an unnaturally brilliant head on her shoulders; had a knack for predicting the up-in-coming semester’s core curriculum. 

Regardless of his musings Harry’s heart still gave a mountainous bound as he finally tore into the wrappings. Sure enough, it was a book; though it wasn't just any treatise. This distinct publication was on the Origins of French Witchcraft. A book that Hermione no doubt really would expect him to have read by the time they were on the Hogwarts train. Though not nearly as excited as Hermione would have been, should she have been the one who was given a book for her birthday; he still fully appreciated the way she thought of him. Knowing that for her to show such concern for his studies meant everything.

Setting it aside he picked up the other present almost expecting this to be another book - it wasn't. It had a sleek black leather case, with the words Broomstick Servicing Kit stamped across it in silver.

Amazed he uttered quietly to himself "Wow Hermione." As he opened up the case to see what was inside. Sitting right on top was a Do-it–yourself handbook on broom care, under that was all the things you would need, A large Jar of Fleetwood's High–Finish Handle Polish, a pair of gleaming silver Tail-Twig Clippers, and a small brass compass to clip onto a broom in case you're going on long journeys.

If there was one thing he missed about Hogwarts other than his friends it was Quidditch, something that was one of the most popular sports in the Wizarding world. It was highly dangerous, and with the danger came the excitement of the adrenaline; it was played on broomsticks. Harry happened to have a natural talent for Quidditch, he had been hand picked by the Gryffindor house headmaster, Professor McGonagall, during his first year at Hogwarts. 

Becoming the youngest person in a century to play for one of the Hogwarts House teams. His Nimbus 2001 racing broom being one of Harry's most prized possessions. - His wand, Hedwig, and the picture of his parents that he had gotten from Hagrid at the end of his first year being the others.- 

Ecstatic that Hermione had also thought to gift him something that was a little outside her normal tastes, Harry gently returned the contents of the box back to their original positions. Placing the case aside along with all the others, he reached for the last parcel. Which was simply a letter from Hogwarts. He however did noticed that it was quite thicker than usual; he opened it and read:

Dear Mr. Potter,

Please note, there has been a change to the third year class syllabus, and the book lists have been updated to include three new texts for your Charms, Potions, and Transfiguration classes. 

As usual the new school year will begin on September 1st. With the Hogwarts express leaving from King's Cross Station, platform nine and three- quarters, at eleven o'clock.

Also, third years are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends. Please give the enclosed permission form to your parents or guardian to sign.

Sincerely,  
Deputy Headmistress,  
Gryffindor Headmaster,  
Professor McGonagall

No longer grinning Harry looked to the Hogsmeade permission slip. It would be wonderful to visit Hogsmeade on weekends; he’d love the option to experience an entirely different Wizarding community than that of Diagon Alley. Despite that, he knew there was no way he was going to be able to convince Uncle Vernon or even Aunt Petunia to sign the form. Though he did know that Uncle Vernon's sister Aunt Marge would be coming in sometime tomorrow, so maybe if he was on extra good behavior he could barter with them to sign it.

Glancing over at his bedside table where the small lamp light, which seemed unusually harsh, illuminated his alarm clock; who’s hands insisted that it was two in the morning. Deciding that it would be better to deal with it later, in favor of getting some much-needed sleep. Harry reached up over his head board to cross off another day from the calendar. He had been using it to keep track of the days he had left till he could leave for Hogwarts, and be back amongst his friends. Then with a sharp click the little bit of light that had been left on in his room vanished without a trace. As sleep claimed the disheartened teenager. 

With only an hour before Aunt Marge and Uncle Vernon arrived back from the train station, the Kitchen was abuzz with Aunt Petunia trying to make everything perfect for her arrival. Dudley sat stuffing his black hole of a mouth, as his five chins bulged and wobbled with the effort of his obnoxious chewing. His beady pig eyes glued to the TV that the Dursley's had purchased as a welcome home present for the summer. In an effort to keep him from complaining anymore over the long distance between the fridge and the TV in the living room.

Harry had managed to catch Uncle Vernon, and Aunt Petunia in a good mood this morning. Meaning he was able to secure an agreement with them. One that stated; in exchange for his best behavior, they would sign the permission forms. However not without Uncle Vernon stressing that this deal had one strict condition; only if his behavior was impeccable, for Aunt Marge's whole stay, would he agree to sign anything to do with that unnatural school of his. 

Desperate to keep in their good graces now, Harry was helping Aunt Petunia as much as he could in the kitchen and with whatever else she would order him to do. From cleaning the oven to the rest of the house as well. Anything to keep her pleased with him, so that she might be keener to sign the forms, independently of whether Vernon was fully pleased or not. With them portraying him as a criminal boy, who was attending St. Brutus. Something that Harry was still nowhere near pleased that they had been lying about, had given them his word to keep his tongue in-cheek as long as she did.

The shrieks and shrill cries of the oversized women that had come stomping into the house could belong to none other than Aunt Marge. Immediately she beckoned for her angel neffy-poo Dudley to give her a hug. Barking orders as she entered the house, Uncle Vernon was blind to the fact that he had become nothing more than her whipping boy; couldn't be more pleased to have her and the large spoiled bulldog. Which she had affectionately named Ripper in their house. Harry caught his Aunt Petunia's slight grimace as Ripper lapped at some tea and biscuits, scattering crumbles all over her freshly cleaned floor. He smirked to himself, knowing that Aunt Petunia hated animals. She put up with Ripper however, because of who he belonged to.

Ripper growled at Harry as he took a seat away from the table that the rest of the Dursley's were sitting at; alerting Marge to his existence.

"So" She proclaimed. "You're still here are you." Her words sounded much more like a statement of distaste than a question. Harry grit his jaw and replied with a short. "Yes." At his lack of fear for her, her beady eyes narrowed.

"Don't you ‘yes’ me in that ungrateful tone boy, " Marge growled. "It's damn good of Vernon and Petunia to keep you. Wouldn't have done it myself. You'd have gone straight to the orphanage if you'd been dumped on my doorstep."

Clenching his fist, he fought the urge to promulgate that he would've much rather have been raised in said orphanage; than to have been kept here with the Dursley's. The thought of getting his form signed kept him from responding in kind to her antagonizations. He forced a painful smile onto his face to keep his mouth shut. Something that had not been worth the effort, which he quickly found out. 

"DON'T you smirk at me!" She bellowed, before huffing and righting herself. She then muttered "I can see you haven't improved since I last saw you. I had hoped the school would've knocked some manners into you. But I can see it's been useless so far," turning to Vernon she asked.

"Where did you say you sent the boy to again Vernon?"

"St. Brutus's," He replied promptly. "It's the finest institution for the hopeless criminals such as him."

"I see," Aunt Marge smiled approvingly. "Do they use a cane at St. Brutus's boy?"

"uh-" Harry paused for a moment looking to Uncle Vernon who nodded curtly behind Aunt Marge's back, his stubby bulbous neck quickly disappearing into his collar and reappearing within seconds.

"Oh yeah, I've been beaten loads of times. In fact, I think I spend more time in the infirmary than I do in classes." Harry said in a mocking tone, one she didn't seem to catch. Much too pleased with the idea of him getting beaten so badly.

"Excellent, I won't have this namby-pamby, wishy-washy nonsense about not hitting people who deserve it. A good thrashing is what's needed in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred. You say they've beaten you good boy?"

"Oh yeah..." Harry muttered, annoyed. Aunt Marge's eyes narrowed, as she said.

"I still don't like that tone of yours. If you can speak of your beatings in such a casual way, they clearly aren't hitting you hard enough. Petunia if I were you I'd write em'. Make it clear that you approve of any extreme force used in this one's case." Harry's knuckles cracked by his sides as he bit back another nasty retort. Uncle Vernon, perhaps afraid that Harry might forget their agreement should he allow this conversation to go on much longer, abruptly attempted to change the subject.

"Heard the news this morning, Marge? What about that escaped prisoner, eh?" Aunt Marge opted to ignore him in favor or wiggling her overly sized arse deeper into her seat; it creaked with instant protest to the abuse of her weight. Making herself right at home, before continuing on. Being sure that she was more speaking at Aunt Petunia, than to her.

"You mustn't blame yourself for the way the boy has turned out dear." She said over the lip of her cup of tea, before setting her cup down definitively. Unsatisfied with the taste of something so healthy. 

"There's something rotten inside, nothing any of us could do about it." As her eyes roamed the room, she spotted Uncle Vernon's supply of Wine and they lit up.  
"Vernon be a dear, and get me a glass will you." Aunt Marge said as she waved at the stash. Once he had returned with a cup she continued on with her conversation, this time, starting on Uncle Vernon. 

"It's all in the breeding you know, that's one of the basic rules of animal breeding. I see it all the time with my dogs. If there's something wrong with the bitch, then there's something wrong with the pup-"

All of Harry's mantras about Hogsmeade parished and the wine glass in Aunt Marge's hand exploded. Shards of glass went flying in every direction and Aunt Marge sputtered and blinked, her face dripping with the wine she had just been nurturing.

"Marge!" Squealed Aunt Petunia. "Are you alright?" Shaking it off, Aunt Marge stated that there was nothing to worry about.

"Must have squeezed it too hard, I did the same thing at Fubster's the other day. You see I have a very firm grip." Steaming Uncle Vernon decided to inform Harry that perhaps it was best for him to head up to his room. Vernon was quickly shushed by Aunt Marge as she had certainly decided she was not even nearly close to done insulting the boy and his family lineage.

"Hush now Vernon,” She started with a snap of her fingers “clean this up boy!" while Aunt Petunia went to grab her another glass.

"Ah yes, just a small one perhaps this time." She stated as Vernon poured the wine again, this time only until it was about a quarter of the way full and handed it to her. She went to sip on it before pausing and looking at it displeased. "a bit more than that Vernon," she reached the glass back out towards him as he began to pour another quarter of wine into the glass. "Bit more…. There we go, that's the ticket!" she proclaimed as the wine reached the very rim, nearly spilling as she made quick work of slurping some of it down. Surely in the need to wet her palet again after all her wailing. 

Grossly moaning her appreciation and smacking her lips Aunt Marge said. "Ahh, that's excellent nosh Petunia. Now this one here," she gestured to Harry "has got a mean, runty look about him. You get that with dogs too, had to drown one last year. The ratty thing was weak, and underbred."

Already knowing where this was going, Harry made his best attempt to tune out the rest of her ramblings about him and his pedigree. Trying anything he could he quickly recalled page twelve of his book: A Charm to Cure Reluctant Reversers to his mind; but he quickly lost the ongoing battle when she started again.  
"It's all to do with the blood, as I was saying before. Now I'm not saying anything against your family Petunia, but your sister was a bad egg. They can often turn up in the best of families you know.” Marge affirmed with a quick nod of her head. “Then to make matters worse she ran off with a miscreant and here's the result." She made another gesture to Harry and did nothing to hide the look of disgust.

"This Potter, where did you say his father worked again Vernon?"

"Uh, he didn't work, Marge." Uncle Vernon stuttered.

"As I expected! Utterly useless, a good for nothing lazy scoundrel; who ran off and got themselves killed in a car crash-."

"He was not!" Harry cut her off suddenly, burning with rage. Barely catching as she proceeded to demean his family even more. He gave up on the thought of being polite, saying goodbye to Hogsmeade in his mind he bellowed right back.

"They didn't die in a bloody car crash!"

"Yes, they did die in a car crash, you nasty little liar. Then left you to be a burden on your hardworking relatives!" Aunt Marge was swelling with rage, as the alcohol burned within her, and her anger with Harry only grew.

"You are an insolent, ungrateful- " Aunt Marge suddenly stopped talking as it looked for a moment that her words had failed her. For she seemed to be swelling with inexpressible anger but the Swelling never stopped, as the doors slammed open and the wind thrashed around the kitchen, she grew and grew in size. Much like a balloon that was being filled with helium she began to rise into the air and then onward out through the doors. As Uncle Vernon followed out after her ballooning body, trying with all his might catch her. Harry turned tail and stormed up to his room. Shoving all his things for school into his chest, repacking with haste the little things he had removed from his belongings. He then stormed over to Hedwig's cage, seeing that Errol appeared to be rested enough now he opened up the cage and let them out.

Turning to Hedwig, he told her to fly to the Leaky caldron attaching a short letter to her leg that explained he would be in need of a room and that Hedwig was there to give them ample warning. 

As she flew away the bellows of Uncle Vernon stopped, Harry knew now that he really needed to rush otherwise he wasn't sure he would make it out before Vernon tried to lay his hands on him. 

Grabbing his wand and placing it in his back pocket he raced down the steps, the pounding of his luggage banging off the stairs behind him; a sure sign to the Dursley's that he was planning on leaving.

"YOU! You bring her back freak! You bring her back right now!" Uncle Vernon steamed as his face turned bright red with the force of his words.

Without answering him Harry continued forward towards the front door, but Uncle Vernon had other plans than to let him leave without so much as a word. With an agile quickness that was surprising and unusual for his size, his uncle jumped in front of him. Stopping Harry short of the bottom of the stairs. 

When all he received in return for this impending intimidation from Harry was a silent glare; Vernon glowered and made a lunge towards him in an attempt to take hold of the boy. This idea was soon forfeited however, as Harry pulled his wand out from his back pocket and pointed it directly in his face. 

‘He just blew up Marge without so much as a word, imagine the capabilities of this boy with a wand in hand.’ Vernon trembled in thought, what he wouldn’t give to beat this insolent child again; but with that wand of his, and no guarantee that it wouldn’t be used against him. There was a cause for pause where there wasn't before. If there was one thing that would always win out over his rage; it was his instinct for survival. 

“You wouldn’t dare...” Vernon tried, “One utterance of a spell from that wand, and they’ll never have you back at that precious school of yours!” He continued, as his confidence that he would see the boy deflate behind that little twig and lower it to his side, grew with every word that flew from his mouth. He was so sure this would give him the opening he needed to take hold of the boy and beat him senseless. 

He could already hear the sound of his belt making purchase on the skin of the boy’s back, and the sweet sound of his cries of anguish echoing in his ears. Perhaps that was why it took him longer than usual to see the vengeful smirk that had taken the place of what should’ve been a defeated frown. 

But when he did, and he made eye contact with his nephew, the images sputtered to a stop inside his head. Harry having noticed the change in his Uncle Vernon’s demeanor, replied with a sneer. 

“I’ve already used magic outside of school, or did you already forget what just happened to your ‘sweet sister’? What’s to stop me from using it again now?” 

That was a thought that slithered through Vernon, with a venom that burned every fiber of his being. That freak wouldn’t hesitate to hurt him should he try to hit him again, and this was a promise, not a threat. That much he could tell just by looking at the seriousness in the boy's face. 

“She deserved what she got, and you will too should you attempt to hurt me again. If that isn’t something you’d like to experience, then I'd move out of my way.” Harry declared, in a strong and steady tone that was such a visibly striking contrast from his actual age; one couldn’t ignore just how much such words and conviction didn’t belong in the mouth of a teenage boy. 

Vernon knew it was his nephew that stood before him in those few moments where they faced each other in a battle of wills; but the look upon Harry’s face and the taught square in his young shoulders, gave off an air of authority that was much more the energy of a man than the boy he should’ve been. Gone was the thirteen year old kid which had depended on his family for years, the person that faced him now was a grown man in a child's body. A moment which seared itself into the retinas of his eyes, and took up home at the forefront of his mind. 

Ever so briefly the Uncle that had originally picked up the small baby that had been left on his front door stoop, and had brought him inside with such extreme care; emerged once more. 

What had he done, what had he become. Vernon contemplated in desperation. He hadn't meant to harm the child this much. No, no he had intended to care for him like his own son, as Dudley’s little brother, the second child he had always wanted which Petunia had been incapable of providing. But there was this incessant voice in his head whenever the boy was around. Telling him all these horrible things. Making comparisons between Harry and his family and made it so blatantly clear that as muggles they were lacking where this boy had been blessed. 

The jealousy that those thoughts had surmounted to had gotten the best of him. In shame he hung his head stepping to the side, and allowing the young man to pass by him. 

Within seconds the front door was slammed shut behind him, and the boy was gone.

“What have I done…” 

Still in a rage, it wasn't long before Harry had reached the park that was in his little neighborhood throwing his suitcase down to ground in irritation; before dropping to the curb beside it. Harry let loose a roar of anguish, in an attempt to break through the haze that had overcome him and his better judgment. 

She was such an insufferable woman, that mere hours after she arrived. Harry had already thrown out all hopes of getting on his relative's good side. Hogsmeade be damned, he thought. It felt good to blow her up like a balloon, but now he might not even be able to go back to Hogwarts.

The thought that he might never be allowed back to that school, the only true home that he had ever known. Which would only alienate him from his friends and from the legal use of his magic. Built a sinking, solid dense feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

Suddenly Harry felt as if he was ready to vomit. 

With a creak of the swings and a slight change of the wind, he became abruptly aware that he wasn't alone here any longer. Turning around, not knowing what he was expecting to see. Harry was shocked to find a black dog, with onyx eyes that looked at him with an intelligence that he hadn't thought an animal could possess.

Nonetheless he wasn't comfortable with the dog as it began to snarl at him. Backing up he raised his hand to show some kind of surrender, then gestured with his thumb as he picked up his luggage to show that he was leaving. Instantaneously there was a light and a high pitched screeching. As quickly as the dog that had materialized seemingly out of nowhere, it had shrunk back into the bushes and disappeared. 

While Harry turned towards the squealing to figure out what that horrendous sound was from; he was received by the sight of the opening doors, to an unusually violent purple triple-decker London bus, and a scraggly looking man stepping down to greet him. 

“Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded Witch or Wizard. Simply stick out your thumb and climb on board; we’ll take you anywhere you’d like to go! I’m Stan Shunpike, and I’ll be your conductor for this evening.” Stan said as he gestured to himself proudly. 

Stan was a young man who looked no older than eighteen. His face was still riddled with numerous pimples that were all red and irritated; clear evidence of the raging hormones he was still under the influence of. Though still older than Harry by many years, his young age did nothing to sooth Harry’s discomfort with the sudden appearance of the awkward man. 

Seeing that Harry wasn’t going to respond to his perfectly rehearsed introduction Stan shuffled his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets and asked "So where ya headed?" 

"To the Leaky Caldron," Harry paused taking it all in, the wonders of the wizarding world never ceases to amaze him, yet still he felt the need to elaborate. "That's in London."

‘Maybe there’s more than one Leaky Cauldron? I wouldn't want another Diagon alley incident. It’s best to just be safe.’ 

Laughing, Stan looked back over his shoulder and called out. “Did you hear that Ernie? That’s in London!” 

‘Well if he would’ve fell sideways into a troubling shop in Nocturne Alley just last year he wouldn’t be finding that comment so funny.’ Harry thought to himself as he walked up the steps to the first floor of the KnightBus. 

After a rather terrifying ride on the KnightBus, that gave the impression of only affecting Harry; while all other occupants in the vehicle had idoly gone about their business. As they were sped, squished, and spun to their destination; and with the self-proclaimed Stan Shunpike cracking jokes almost the entire way. The only reprieve Harry had, had to gain some bearings and take in his surroundings; left him wondering at the Daily Prophet, and the screaming image of a familiar emaciated looking man that was adorning the front page. 

‘So the escaped prisoner that’s been all over the news is from the wizarding world?’

By the time they arrived at the Leaky Caldron, Harry wasn’t sure what seemed more appropriate; kissing the very ground he had stepped out onto, or throwing up on it due to the vertigo he was experiencing. 

Before he could make up his mind on either action however, he was intercepted by the owner Tom who was there to escort Harry to his office. Once they arrived he came face to face with the Head of the Ministry of Magic. 

“Oh, Harry! There you are. I expect your travel here was safe then?” 

‘Sure if being hurled around at excessive speeds and magically modified to squeeze “comfortably” between two double-decker London busses counts as safe travel in the wizarding world.’ Harry thought to himself.

After that whirlwind ride, of one thing he was certain. He: Harry James Potter, would never use that dreaded triple decker KnightBus ever again. 

“Oh, yeah. I guess you can say that.” He replied instead, after deciding it was best not to draw attention to his grievances with the wizarding world until after he knew just what kind of trouble he was in for the Marge incident. 

“Good, good!” Cornelius cherefully replied. “I wanted you to know that we’ve successfully recovered your aunt, and she had been returned to her proper size; with her memories appropriately modified.” 

“About that, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it; I was just so upset at the time.” Harry advocated in fear of the consequences now that he was face to face with them. 

“We know that Harry, there’s no harm done.” Fudge said a calm smile covering his features, this was clearly a man who was in charge and knew it. “We’re finished here Tom. Will you show Harry to his room?” 

“Of course Minister.” Tom replied, grabbing Harry by his arm and tugging him towards the exit of the room. 

“But sir!” Harry exclaimed as he struggled against Tom’s hold on him. “I don’t understand! I commited a crime! Underage wizards aren’t supposed to do magic outside Hogwarts.” About halfway through his protest Tom had let go of Harry’s arm and was now simply waiting by the door for him to fully express what he wanted to say.

“Oh calm down Harry. The ministry doesn’t throw people in Azkaban for blowing up their aunts. Just don’t go making a habit of it.” Cornelius asserted. 

“Well shouldn’t I be expelled from Hogwarts or something?” He inquired

“Nonsense! This was a simple case of accidental magic, a common thing among the wizarding youth.There’s no need for expulsion or anything as drastic as such. That is unless you’d like to be?” Fudge reassured Harry formerly. 

“N-no, no. I wouldn’t want anything like that. Thank you sir.” Harry stuttered. Stumbling over himself in haste to leave before Fudge could change his mind. 

“Splendid, then do enjoy your stay Harry. Oh, and I’d stay away from the split pea soup. It can have a nasty habit of biting back if you don’t eat it quickly enough.” With the soft click of the door behind him, Harry’s run in with the Minister of Magic was abruptly ended. 

Dismissed Harry was escorted once more by Tom; only this time it was to his room where Hedwig and his luggage were already waiting for him along with another letter from Hogwarts that sat atop a strange looking book.

After the long day he had, he was in no mood to read them so he simply moved them aside for the time being, fed a treat to Hedwig who affectionately nipped at his fingers. Then climbed into bed; where he was quick to fall asleep for the rest of the night.

The next morning Harry had woken to the rumbling rattle of a passing train, successfully shaking the whole building with it.

‘First things first.’ he thought. ‘Time for a piss and a proper shower.’ Making his way into the bathroom that was attached to his suite Harry made quick work of his morning routine. 

When he re-entered his room he saw the letter that was still resting on top of an extremely strange looking book; which Harry could swear was making gurgling noises. 

Once he finished reading the letter he found that said book was from Hagrid, proudly stating that he had been chosen as the new Professor for the Study of Magical Creatures class, and that this Monster Book of Monsters would be found useful for him in the coming year. 

Curious Harry undid the binding and went to open the book, cautious due to the strange sounds being emitted from it. He had only just opened the book to a random page and read:

\- Hippogriffs are well known for their magical abilities to accurately judge the character of any Witch or Wizard. As well as properly assessing any emotional connections they may have to other Witches or Wizards who are around it’s worthy rider at the time of their assessment. 

Uncommonly they are also known to accurately predict the soulmates of said Witch or Wizar- 

Then suddenly Harry’s readings were brusquely cut off as the book gave a tremendous snap. One that would’ve landed directly on his nose had Harry’s quick reflexes not kicked in and pulled the book away from his face within the nick of time. 

Startled he threw the book away from him, and watched as the book then scurried its way under his bed. In shock he simply stood there bewildering at the capabilities of magic once more. This time however he couldn’t stop himself from wondering at what possible reasons an author could have to give life to a book. Not just life, but aggressive life at that. “What good is a book that is impossible to read?” Harry muttered out loud to the furniture and shelves of his room, both expecting and not; for something to answer him. Nothing did.

After taking his time to formulate a plan to capture the rouge text. Harry jumped up onto his bed, having seized one of his hand-me-down shoes; perching himself just so, with shoe in hand, ready to implement his trap.

Harry dropped the footwear, and no sooner had it hit the floor with a dull thud did the monster book strike, chomping down again and again on the poor jogger that had been chosen for sacrifice.

Quickly Harry snatched it up in victory as he clasped the dreaded thing closed once more. Clutching it and his now nearly ruined shoe in his hands; the door burst open and Harry was suddenly engulfed in a bear hug that had nearly knocked him flat. His line of sight impeded by a bushel of messy brown hair. He knew who it was in an instant. It was his dear friend Hermione. And this was one of her legendary hugs.

"Hey there, Hermione," Harry said, having dropped the now rebound book and shoe with a couple of thumps on the floor; in favor of wrapping his arms securely around her waist. He returned her hug, happy to see a friendly face after many months with the Dursley's. 

"Oh Harry, I heard what happened. Honestly, the whole place is abuzz with chatter about it. I almost couldn't believe my ears, as I entered the pub all I'm hearing is your name, then when they said that you were here. I just had to come see you! Truly those relatives of yours are horrible people." She exclaimed, tightening her hug slightly before pulling away and checking him over.

"Everything else is alright though, right?" Hermione asked even as her eyes wandered over his body searching for any imperfections, or evidence that there was foul play. 

“I’m fine Hermione. I promise.” Harry assured her. Once she was satisfied that he was indeed fine she let go and he watched as she scurried over to Hedwig.

“Hedwig! It’s so good to see you again.” Hermione exclaimed

"You weren't kidding about being here sometime this week then?" Harry needlessly inquired, having been at a loss for something to say. But not appreciating the lack of her immediate attention. It made Harry partially wish that something else had happened to him, only if it meant that her hands and attention would’ve stayed on him longer. 

"Of course not Harry. You know I don't joke about my education." She said as she affectionately scratched behind Hedwig's ears. Moving to bury her face behind her hair more effectively. `Don't see it. Please, please don’t see it.’ Hermione begged silently in her head as she felt her cheeks heat up impossibly more. ‘I can’t believe I just checked Harry out like that.’ 

“I know, it’s one of the things I love about you.” Harry admitted, obliviously. “In fact, I’m surprised that you haven’t miraculously purchased your entire booklist and read every text already.” 

"Actually, now that you mentioned it, I came here for another reason as well. I'm sure you got that letter from McGonagall by now, meaning we have even more books to go searching for! So I was thinking we could go to Diagon Alley together and get some of our supplies. What do you say?" Hermione professed, grasping at the attempt to change the subject. Ignoring the bit where Harry had admitted to loving things about her. Her mind short circuited at the very idea. 

With her furious blush, thoroughly managed she turned to move back towards Harry; slower this time, she noticed the discarded book and shredded jogger that laid on the floor. 

“Oh Harry, what happened to your shoe?” She inquired as she lifted the offending item off the floor and into the air for inspection. 

“Uh… I kinda had a hard run in with the monster part of the Monster Book of Monsters.” Harry sheepishly offered in retort, while scratching the back of his head. 

“Well that clearly just won't do, you can’t go walking around in a tattered pair of joggers.” Hermoine declared with barely concealed mirth.

“Uh, I don’t really have the money to replace them.” Harry replied nervously. “I planned to spend most of the extra on new robes and stuff for Hedwig. 

“Non-sense! My parents gave me more than enough money to buy everything I’ll be needing for school and then some. So I’ll simply buy them for you!” Harry wanted to protest, and his rejection of the idea really was sitting on the tip of his tongue just waiting to be set free, but the way she stood there in front of him, having walked back over as she assessed the damages. His answer died there, as he took in the sight of her peering up at him expectantly. 

For the life of him he couldn’t understand why that view brought a certain warmth to his cheeks that wasn’t there before. 

She was well aware that he never said no to her. So it seemed now that he had no choice, he nodded his consent.

Immediately after his concurrence he was promptly dragged away by a gleeful Hermione. Clearly she was on a mission, and whether it was for fear of him changing his mind or because she really was that excited. She had grabbed him up neglecting to realize that until they had purchased the new shoes, Harry was barefoot. 

The blush that decorated her cheeks when Harry had pointed out that she had pulled him away from his room while he was still underdressed in her haste to get to Diagon Alley; only went unnoticed by him because he had already turned back towards his room in order to finish getting prepared. 

‘He’s so cute… He just let me drag him away like that, and he didn’t stop me until it was clear to him that we were heading out the door. ’ She thought to herself as she watched him walk away. A small smile creeping across her lips 

As they arrived in Diagon Alley Hermione slowed to inform Harry on her plan of action that she thought would best utilize their time. Stopping shortly in front of Flourish & Blotts. 

"Okay, so first things first, I want to get all of our books. Then we can wander around and find something else to do." Hermione stated confidently, only pausing when she received no assurance from her personal prisoner. Looking back she saw his guilty, and ashamed face. It was clear he had absolutely no idea what books were actually on their booklist. 

"Oh honestly Harry. Did you really not even look at the booklist?” Hermione promulgated shoving him from behind as they entered the magical novel store. 

“There were three new books that were added.” She said, shaking her head in an amused annoyance before continuing on in nearly perfect french. Counting them on her fingers as she listed them off. “ me-sœur Recherche Charmes, me-sœur Recherche Potions, et me-sœur Recherche Métamorphose. Which is French for Soul-mate Searching, obviously a different edition is required for Charms, potions, and Transfigurations." She stated it as if Harry too had spent the summer holidays in France with his family.

All he could do was shake his head in amusement similar to how she had previously at the expense of him and his obliviousness/inattentiveness to his studies. Being that she was already past the subject gleefully grabbing up the books on both of their lists. She didn’t even see his form of endearment for her habits. It wasn't until he noticed her picking up a pair of beginners books on Ancient Runes that he stopped her, shocked that she too had chosen to take that class instead of Divinations. The class that Ron had been so set on all of them taking together.

"Hermione I didn't know you're taking Ancient Runes as well." He said

"Oh of course! I found that class loads more interesting than Divinations. I was however certain that Ron would convince you to take Divinations with him. So I’d say that I'm the one who’s quite shocked that you would choose to take Ancient Runes instead." Brushing it off she piled more books into Harry’s arms. He had become nothing more than the pack-mule for their things to her; of this he was sure. Once she had triple and quadruple checked that they had everything they would need for the coming semester. Hermione began to push Harry towards the register so that they could be rung up.

Once they were back on the streets of Diagon Alley, with their magically shrunken books and their two shopping bags. They wandered around looking for something else to do before returning to the Leaky Caldron. When they passed by Magical Menagerie, Harry noticed that Hermione paused and sighed wistfully.

That wishful sigh brought pause to Harry. ‘If she wants to go in there so bad, why doesn't she just ask?’ 

"Uh actually Hermione, I need to pick up some more owl treats for Hedwig. Would you mind if we stopped in there for a bit?" Harry inquired quickly, though he didn't really need anything more for Hedwig just yet, he got this strange feeling that Hermione wouldn't have gone there otherwise. Even though it was clear she really wanted to. 

"Sure if you’d like." She answered simply, though her spirits were raised at the mere mention of going into the pet store. 

Wandering in together, however Hermione's head turned almost instantly to the cat section. Knowing her well enough Harry could practically see her need, and could tell that she didn’t wish to impose the idea on him. Quick and cunningly he came up with a plan that would make it so she wouldn’t feel guilty for dragging him over to the cats. 

"Hey, why don't we look around a bit first?" When he got no argument from her he began to walk over to look at the cats. Patting himself on his back mentally for the utter brilliance of his plan. ‘There’s no way she’ll know that I planned all of this!’ Every cat was meowing and rubbing themselves along the cages begging to be pet, as they walked by. 

Suddenly Hermione was meowing back at them, not the kind of mocking meow that one would typically throw back at a cat to make it feel important, or like it's understood. But actually meowing like she could understand them, much like how Harry would hiss at snakes.

"Uh, Hermione… Are you aware that you're meowing? " Harry whispered to her, hoping to keep it between them.

"Huh? Oh, I'm sorry Harry. I never got the chance to tell you last year since I was petrified shortly after finding out, but much like you could communicate with snakes, I found that I could suddenly understand what cats were saying. Like there was this voice in my head whenever I was near one. So I went to Madam Pomfrey about it, and she said it could be a side effect from accidentally ingesting the polyjuice potion with a cat hair in it. Whatever the case, now it would appear that I am a Felistongue." She blushed softly as she said this and Harry couldn't help but be in awe because now he wasn't the only one who could hear things he shouldn't and to think that it would be one of his best friends that could also communicate with a species of animal.

"That's brilliant Hermione!" Harry exclaimed as an idea came to him. "You still don't have a pet for Hogwarts do you?" Harry questioned and smirked victoriously when she admitted that she didn’t, because she didn't want to bother her parents with such a petty purchase. Even though she was well aware that they would be fine with her having an animal. After a few more moments of discussing which cat Hermione liked best out of all of them, and her informing him that the most intelligent one seemed to be the smushed face orange cat that had pushed its way forward earlier. 

Harry snuck away, with the excuse that he was going to go grab the treats for Hedwig and went straight to the register.

"Excuse me, ma'am, I would like to make a purchase," Harry stated looking expectantly at the attendant.

"Yes sir, what can I help you with?" She inquired, and as Harry told her about the Orange flat faced cat that his friend had taken a liking too, he explained that he wanted it to be a surprise for her. An early birthday present.

"Ah, I understand. I can help you with that. " Harry then ordered some owl treats from the attendant, before he paid for it all and made his way back over to Hermione, who looked like she was worrying over something.

"What is it, Hermione?" Harry inquired curiously, as her brows were furrowed and she was biting on her lower lip; a bad habit that he had noticed she would do whenever she was seriously thinking about something. Causing her to jump slightly, she quickly turned to him and said.

"Harry I know this isn't something I really need to ask you, but I would like to keep my being a Felistongue a secret for now. I told you, because I knew you would understand but I'm not certain everyone else would. So, if you could keep my secret for me, even from Ron for now, I would really appreciate it." Harry glanced at her and noticed how she was picking at her sleeves and clearly she was serious about this.

"Even from Ron?" He questioned her. Just to be sure because Ron was their friend after all. Even though he could be a bit of a prick sometimes. He believed that he had handled the fact that Harry was a parseltongue pretty well.

"Yes Harry, even Ron. I'm just not certain he would take too well to being the only one out of the three of us who can't speak to animals. Once the time is right I'll tell him. I promise, but for now I think it's best if we don't. " Hermione Said

"Alright, I promise. " He replied as the attendant from earlier came over to them plucking the orange flat face cat out from the pen with the others and began to carry him back to the front. Hermione cried out "Crookshanks!"

"Crookshanks?" Harry inquired. "Who or what is a Crookshanks?"

"He's the cat that I was telling you about, the one that the attendant just walked away with. I guess someone must have purchased him." Hermione looked so chest fallen that Harry could hardly keep it from her that he was the one that bought him. 

It wasn’t until the attendant returned, a caged Crookshanks and all the supplies she could need for him in one hand and the proper adoption paperwork in the other. That Harry admitted to being the one who’d bought him, and that he had done it for her.

“Thank you so much Harry!” Hermione squealed with glee and gave him a bone-crushing hug that knocked them both to the ground. They laid there in shock, eyes locked in a staring contest. As blushes slowly creeped up each of their cheeks. They only returned to reality when the attendant cleared her throat at them. Handing Hermione the cage as she stood. Hermione pulled Crookshanks out of his container, instantly cuddling up to him and meowing softly, in what sounded like a reassuring way. Then smothering him with hugs and kisses to his face, before there was some more meowing that caused Harry to pause and wonder.

‘Is this how everyone felt when I spoke to snakes? Like there’s some secret conversation happening; some sort of an inside joke that you’re not a part of or privy to?’ 

Crookshanks turned his piercing yellow eyes onto him, releasing an unsettled yowl. “But Harry, why would you buy him for me? And didn’t you say that you didn’t have money for proper trainers? I won’t have you spending your sickles on me!” Hermione asked after nodding her head to whatever it was that Crookshanks had said peering at him in wonder. 

Startled, and shifting uncomfortably under the two sets of unusually intelligent eyes. He realized rather quickly that this was the second time in less than twenty-four hours, that he had come across an animal whose eyes were uncharacteristically human in nature and intelligence. ‘How strange’ Harry thought, before stating. “I bought him for you because it was clear how much you wanted him, and I couldn’t think of a better birthday present for the girl who bought me not one but two presents for my birthday.”

He then reasoned that since they wouldn't be able to leave the castle to buy her a gift for her birthday in September; he figured it was best that he would buy one for her now.

After a quick stop back at the Leaky Caldron where Hermione safely placed Crookshanks inside her rented room. She and Harry returned to the busy shopping square. This time Hermione was insistent that it was time he got that properly fitting pair of shoes. 

Glancing down at his beaten, battered, and chewed up shoes. Wiggling his toe in and out of the freshly made holes; Harry lemented. 

A/N: Here's Chapter two! Hope you guys enjoyed it! I know there's not much of Ron or any of the Weasleys but I promise you they'll be coming in soon!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I just wanted to say a quick thanks to all my lovely readers, I really appreciate the support

Chapter three: Sirius Black, Dementors, and The Assignment

Harry and Hermione’s return trek to the Leaky Caldron, this time with Harry’s purchases in tow; left Harry huffing and heaving as quietly as he could as they climbed the hill back towards the Leaky cauldron. 

Curious if she was struggling as much as he was, Harry glanced ahead of him only to see Hermione humming happily, while skipping slightly ahead of him. ‘You would think after the full day we had she would be as tired as me, yet she seems so full of energy.’ 

`If anything at least now I know that should anyone question her strength; then it is clear that they’ve never gone shopping with her.’ Harry thought in bewilderment, as his muscles ached similarly to the way that they had when Uncle Vernon had him lifting bricks and moving them all day. One of Uncle Vernon’s more clever punishments for Harry’s freakish actions. 

Most of said purchases were made due to Hermione insisting that it was necessary for Harry to have clothes that properly fit him. She had huffed out in annoyance and stomped her foot down with displeasure when he had tried to protest, that he shouldn’t be spending his money on things that he did not necessarily need. 

“I already have clothes Hermione.” He had stated weakly in an attempt to remind her as she had already pulled mountains of clothes off the shelves and piled them into her arms. 

“That rubbish?” She asked, sparing him a quick glance, and a once over. “Those aren’t clothes, they're rages. Besides Harry! Every parent gives their child a budget for new clothes at the beginning of every school year; or at least the good ones do. So I’m willing to bet that your parents factored in the money for this, because they had full intentions of providing you with new clothes every year.” 

Unconvinced, Harry had been surprised that the purchases were successfully processed with ease; after the time he had spent growing up at the Dursley’s he had never truly believed that new clothes could or would be covered under his parents' designated school expenses. 

Of course he knew that the Dursley’s often bought new clothes for Dudley every year around the same time, and that more often than not it had been just before the summer holiday had ended. But they had never even glanced his way when it came time to buy said clothes. Once Harry had even heard Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon arguing about it. 

He hadn't heard the entire conversation but it had sounded as if Aunt Petunia had gotten a call from the school and had been lectured by his primary school teacher for the state of dress they had been allowinging him to attend classes in. So she in turn attempted to lecture Uncle Vernon for this inconvenience. That was the closest Harry had ever felt to being helped by his Aunt, but of course Uncle Vernon had thrown a fit over the idea of spending any kind of money on the “freak”. 

“I’d rather that blasted school call every day than to ever spend a penny on that bloody retch.” He had declared before storming out of the room.

Hermione, pleased that her best friend wouldn’t be dressed in hand-me-down, torn up clothes anymore. Gave a self-satisfied smirk, as she ordered him to get rid of all of his old clothing as soon as they got back, now that he had a whole new wardrobe. 

Glancing down at the singular bag in his hand Harry thanked Merlin for the wonders of magic, because if it didn’t exist then he would be buried under a mountain of bags. Conveniently however, shopping in Diagon Alley meant that no matter what everything; including bags of clothes from other stores could fit into one singular bag. Thinking back to all the shopping trips Aunt Petunia had dragged him out on to be her bag boy; chuckling Harry thought that perhaps every girl shopped like his Aunt Petunia. 

Though even as he recalled images of Hermione throwing one thing after another off the shelves and into his arms, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. 

‘If I was to always go shopping with Hermione.’ he thought. ‘Even if it was just to see the way her face lights up when she sees something she likes; or even better to continue being on the receiving end of her approving nods; that always came accompanied by what he hoped was an appreciative blush across her cheeks when he walked out of the dressing rooms in one of the outfits she had picked for him. Then he was happy to spend the rest of his life being a bag carrier.  
Of course I would want to spend the rest of his life with her, she’s one of my best friends. I want Ron as my best mate for the rest of my life as well. Just because I was willing to carry Hermione’s shopping bags, and whatever else she might toss into my arms for the rest of my life didn’t mean anything different for our relationship. Right?’

‘If that was the truth though...’ Harry pondered, but for the life of him he couldn’t understand why when he caught her looking at him deep in thought; or when he noticed the slight reddening of her cheeks before she’d turn away, did he feel this strange fluttering in his stomach? 

‘If we’re just friends...’ He paused looking down at his empty hand that had brushed gently past Hermione’s as they moved, before shyly looking at her equally empty hands as she walked proudly beside him happily chattering about her holiday in France. ‘Then why do I feel like I want to hold her hand?’ That stopped him in his tracks, his head spinning. ‘What does this mean?’ 

Electrical shocks skyrocketed up his arm as delicate fingers wrapped over his bicep, ripping him quickly away from his musings. 

“Harry? Are you okay? You seemed to be lost in thought, and you just stopped suddenly.” Hermione asked kindly, while looking over him worriedly. “Was it your scar again?” 

“Huh?” Harry uttered in wonder before instinctually moving his hand up to cover his scar. “N-no it’s not that, I... I was just lost in thought is all.” He finished lamely as he suddenly felt much too shy to tell her what he had been deliberating about, as his hand fell back down to his side. 

“What were you thinking so hard about?” Hermione inquired without pause, her eyes locked on his emerald green ones. ‘Such beautiful green eyes, they’re like the hue of new spring growth bright and soft in the sun; but flecks of strength that shine deeper and darker. The kind of green that comes only as summer advances. Aged by the weather they’ve endured.’ Hermione mused as she took this moment to appreciate her best friend. 

“It’s nothing, honestly Hermione I’m fine.” Harry rushed out in reply before marching forward towards the front doors of the Leaky Cauldron. ‘Did he just blush? Or was I seeing things?’ Hermione wondered as she watched him walk a few steps away from her before he paused and turned back to face her, looking sheepish. He must have just realized she wasn’t following him. 

“You uh… ready to head back inside?” Harry mumbled gesturing with his empty in the direction of the door. Shaking her head, Hermione smiled brightly and decided that he must have just been embarrassed by her catching him lost in thought. Something she knew she’d been known to be self-conscious about many a time; typically however it was only after being caught by those brilliant green eyes. ‘The girl that Harry ends up with is gonna be so lucky. Getting to look into those eyes anytime she wants, and not having to be embarrassed by it.’

She was well aware that she was crushing heavily on Harry, but she also knew that she didn’t stand a chance. The possibility that he could ever feel the same way about her was an absurdity in her mind. In all honesty Hermione had known about her crush on Harry for years. Ever since he had barged right into the girls bathroom that halloween night and saved her from that troll. She had come close to saying it once back then that she had fancied him. After having faced down that giant Wizards Chess. 

“Ron’s right, I have to go on.” Eleven year old Harry whispered before her, only half kneeling next to their injured friend. ‘I want to go with you.’ twelve year old Hermione pleaded in her mind, but one glance down at Ron told her, currently he needed her more. “You’ll be okay Harry, you’re a great wizard. You really are.” Hermione insisted instead, more for herself than for him. She was terrified that should he go into the room alone he wouldn’t come back out. He gulped and glanced down at Ron again before saying. “Not as good as you are Hermione.” He’ll never know how much those words had made her heart flutter. 

She chuckled in a self depriating way before looking back up into his eyes. “Me?” She said. “Books and cleverness? There are more important things.” Harry looked stunned into silence so she continued. “Friendship, and bravery… and Harry, just be careful.” 

With a sullen nod she knew he was about to leave, and she had to fight everything in her self to keep from standing up with him. 

“Please be okay Harry.” She whispered out after him as he walked away from her into a room full of unknown dangers. 

And she had almost told him again just this last year, after she was cured of her petrification. 

Pushing open the doors to the great hall was challenging on its own any other given day but trying to pry these doors open after being petrified for months, with your muscles in your body slowly disappearing. Now that was what Hermione would call difficult. Still in her haste to see her boys she pulled with all her might and finally it gave a heaving moan and everyone in the great hall turned to look at her. But none were as important as Harry when he saw her and stood up, she couldn’t help but to run barreling towards him and wrap him up in her arms. 

A lot like she wanted to do now, but this time she had to hold herself back. 

Oblivious to the scene that flashed before her eyes Harry waited patiently for her to answer his question. Probably assuming that she was going over a list of the things she had wanted to get on their outing. 

Smiling nostalgically to herself, she said. “Yeah, we’ve got everything we need. Let’s head back inside.” 

With her help Harry put everything away, and his old clothes were “properly taken care of” as Hermione had so kindly put it after she told the maids to vanish it all from the room. Calling it “useless clutter.” Something that Harry couldn’t help but to agree with. Before she rushed out the door to fetch her books from her room far to exhilarated at the idea of new reading material to utter more than a quick command over her shoulder at Harry. 

“Get changed and meet me in the dining area! Be sure to bring your books with you!” she had ordered, and he for one was sure that she meant it. 

Pulling the oversized red shirt he was wearing over his head. He held it out in front of him, assessing the way it looked so vibrant in color but it was still clear from the way it sagged over his body and in his hands that it was by no means “new”; or the proper size for him. 

For as long as he could remember; Harry realized that he had never had clothes that were solely his own. Nothing had ever been bought strictly for him, thinking on it hard he knew that truly prior to today, there wasn’t a single item in his possession that wasn’t stretched beyond belief or torn at the seams. All the frayed strings was a clear indicator that these things had only come into his possession after they had made their way through his gigantic pig of a cousin Dudley’s ever growing gut first. Not that they weren’t still useable however, being that with the way Dudley ate he outgrew his clothes almost as fast as Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon could buy new ones. 

Still this didn’t stop the clothes from being utterly destroyed before being “gifted” to Harry; things that were given to him only out of the complete kindness of his family’s heart. But that didn’t matter anymore now, thanks to the true kindness of his parents. Who had fully planned for him to use his school money for far more than just his robes and books every term, that of which had become clear. Thanks to Hermione’s promoting the only things he had left from the ever giving Dursley’s were the clothes that were currently either on his person or held within his hands. 

Strictly speaking, Harry was thankful that she had elected to leave in such a rush with not but a command towards him. Because there was not a chance in the world he would be taking his clothes off in front of her. He was much to ashamed with the state of his small scared body. And he worried that if Hermione were to see the abuse that he as been subjected too by his Uncles belt over the years; that she would view him in such a different light she might not wish to be his friend any longer. 

Though he did have a lambent enough mind to know that was something which was probably very unlikely to happen. Hermione was too precious a presence in his life for him to be willing to take that risk. In all actuality Harry hadn’t allowed anyone to see his scars since he had gone into the gym locker room to get changed, and had neglected to hide his wounds like he usually would have. Another student, that he had not been aware of being there had not only seen but reported the gruesome gnarly gashes that he had been nursing at the time, to the teacher. 

He learned then that showing people the marks on his body meant having to spend an entire day with grownups staring at the state of his back before being ushered into a councilors office for what seemed like hours. Hours, that the councilor had spent promising Harry that whoever had done that to him would be stopped, having stressed to young Harry that should he tell him who had done this wretched unspeakable thing would be held accountable for all of his abuse.

Regetably Harry had blindly trusted in the first true kind words he had ever received from any adult. He had told them of the private beatings in explicit detail that he would receive from his uncle anytime he scored higher than his cousin Dudley on school work; or did anything that his Uncle viewed as remotely “Freakish”.

‘What a fool he had been to believe then that he could be safe from the mistreatment.’ Harry thought to himself casting the shirt he had been holding this whole time aside. He opened up his trunk and filed through his new options for clothing; before settling on a thin maroon jumper, a white tee and some white wash trousers. Even in August Harry felt that the closer it was to nightfall the cooler it got in the windy alley’s that were the streets and walkways of london. As he dressed in the first properly fitting clothes that he had ever owned, he recalled what had happened instead. 

The school having contacted Child Protection Services or CPS for short, assured him there would be a representative sent to his house in response to the “alleged” accusations. When the agent knocked on the front door to one Number Four Privet Drive and his Vernon had seen who was at the door; immediately saw to it that Harry had promptly been shoved/thrown into his little room inside the cupboard under the stairs; he had been thrown so harshly, truth be told, into the small area that his small body made an almost immediate impact on the opposite wall, a collision that was so jarring he passed out. It was only hours later that he finally came too. Having no idea what had occurred after that, he only knew one thing for sure; he was never taken from their home like he had been promised. However the beating that had ensued thereafter by his uncle left him unable to move properly for days. 

Those scars were the worst ones, they riddled most of his back and if he really thought on it; they’d still ache like they had only just begun to heal yesterday. Subsequently, after having overheard Aunt Petunia screaming about the possibility of having Dudley taken away from them; the beatings stopped. Never again did Vernon raise his hand, or his belt in a harmful manner towards Harry; and though he highly doubted his Aunt had meant to protect him in anyway, he was grateful for the inadvertent kindness she had shown him that day. 

What Harry was absolutely certain of however was that she had been completely clueless to the singular fact that, that day had been Harry’s tenth birthday. Only a year before he was whisked away to Hogwarts, a place that Harry considered his first home; by one Rubeus Hagrid, someone who he’d be forever grateful towards. Still his Aunt had unwittingly shown her first and only kindness towards him, and it was something that had kept him safe from his Uncle for the past three years. 

Finally allowing him, and his body time to fully recover; if something like getting abused by your only living relatives, people that had truly been the only parents he could recall, was something you could ever really fully recovered from. The reality of it was continuously strange for him to think on. Impossible to believe that it had already been three years since the last crack of a belt had meant immediate pain to his physicality. 

Harry now fully clothed again quickly collected all of his new book, and after giving Hedwig a quick affectionate scratch; headed out of his room fully intent on meeting back up with Hermione once more. 

“Harry! Over here.” Hermione called out waving him over to one of the few secluded tables in the Leaky Cauldron that were tucked away in a private corner near one of the many fireplaces that were all connected to the floo network. ‘That’s the table that Hagrid and I sat at after he collected me for my first year.’ 

He pondered over the striking contrast between his readiness to sit beside Hermione who was already nose deep in her first book and the memory of Hagrid with a warm meal. 

‘Somehow this image is much more homely.’ Harry thought, ‘It feels like we’re at Hogwarts already.’ 

That was the first time Harry had any inkling that home could be a person not a place. 

Dropping his pile down on the table he took up the seat beside her as she moved her books to the other side of the table to accommodate his arrival. 

‘Why is it, that I’ve never felt happier than I do right now?’ Just looking at her sitting there, her head buried in a book ; strands of bushy hair slipping out from behind her ears and framing her face. Harry had this sense of serenity blanket him. And he thought to himself. ‘I wish to stay here.’

As they read there were moments where Harry would reach out, and grasp Hermione's hand insisting that she was brilliant. Occurring mostly when he was stuck on a particularly hard section, and at a loss for the answer. Then he would find himself looking to Hermione; sure that she knew the answer. Even if she wouldn't tell him it out right, her gentle prodding always seemed to bring him right to it; almost as if he had known the answer all along. She never made him feel stupid for asking questions and always encuraged him too. 

So while he went about writing the answer down in a notebook that Hermione had gifted him when she discovered that he hadn’t brought one of his own; he would miss the slight reddening of her cheeks, or the tremble of her hand as she brought it up to push her hair away from her suddenly heated face, as her eyes never left his form all the while. Then a shy smile would glimmer into life upon her lips, as she turned her attention back to her books.

The days went by in a flash for the children who had taken to waking each other up in the mornings; before heading back down stairs to the lobby, where they would continue their preemptive readings. Should one still be sleeping and the other awake they would venture to the others room and wake each other with gentle prodding. Until one morning Harry had a particularly hard nights sleep, and Hermione had come cradling a sleepy crookshanks in her arm. She had knocked on his door expecting that by the third time she tried he would answer; as had become the norm in the last week. Yet no matter how hard she knocked he didn’t answer. Concern for her friend overcame her and she tried the handle of the door in her haste. ‘How unlike Harry, he’s usually such a light sleeper.’ Still, she was surprised to find it unlocked and as the door creaked open slowly she peeked her head inside only to find her dear friend lost in the middle of a nightmare. As he tossed and turned, she hurried to his side worry maring her features and she tried in vain to wake him gently; having set crookshanks down upon entering the room. She was shocked when he jumped up on to Harry’s bed, tucking himself in beside him.  
“He’s not going to wake up right now Hermione, it’s best to just offer him comfort. The sooner his subconscious calms the quicker he will rise.” Crookshanks stated in explanation. 

“But how am i supposed to offer support to a sleeping person?” Hermione inquired in return, her cheeks already inflamed from seeing Harry in such a state of undress. Until Harry rolled over towards Crookshanks cradling his head in agony, and suddenly Hermione was subjected to the view of his bare back and it was all she could do not to cry. 

“Crookshanks, his back… his relatives, they’ve been beating him...“ Hermione crooked out in a broken mew. Her hand trembling as she reached out to touch a particularly pink scar that was still rather young looking in age. “ This one covers most of his back… it can’t be much older than a few years.” She relayed to Crookshanks who had cuddled up into Harry’s arms, purring gently; and a tear slid down her cheek despite her efforts to keep herself together. Suddenly; as if her body had moved instanously, she was laying down behind him in bed cradling his back to her front as she buried her head in between his shoulder blades. 

“He’s had a hard life, that's for sure.” Crookshanks finally replied as Harry’s body relaxed at last, seeming to have sensed Hermione’s presents behind him even in his sleep. He had rolled over towards her, and Hermione had stayed there tucked in at his side. Till her emotions finally settled and her tears dried up, and with one last tired look at Harry’s slumbering face, she thought. ‘No matter what, I’m going to make sure he never has to suffer like that again.’ As she drifted off to sleep once more, only this time it was in the arms of one Harry James Potter. 

When Harry awoke, it was due to the tickling of hairs under his nose. Opening his eyes to the sight of a fully dressed Hermione snuggled up next to him, one arm tucked in under her head causing half of her hair to bush up more than usual and the other resting casually on his arm. Harry thought that he must still be dreaming at first. Until the very real, and extremely embarrassing strain of his boxers alerted him to the very real fact that this was in truth, not a dream. 

Bursting forward he shot up straight and looked around his room. His door was closed, and hedwig was still in her cage, but there was a cat on one side of him and a beautiful girl on the other. And he was in his boxers. 

For a boy freshly in his teenage years, this was to much to handle for his already raging hormones that had only just started to emerge. Dashing off to the bathroom he locked the door behind him as Hermione woke up with a start. 

“Harry?” She called, with sleep still coating her vocal cords. “Is everything alright?” 

“Uh, yeah…” He replied in a panic. A blush making itself a permanent fixture across his cheeks. “I just really needed to pee.” The words came out in a rush as his hands flew down to his crotch, and his ears began to heat. 

“Oh…” Came Hermione’s eloquent reply. “Umm, do you need any help or anything?”  
The second those words came out of her mouth she regretted them. ‘Like what Hermione? He’s in the bathroom!’ She thought while her hand shot up to her face. ‘This is just fantastic, now I sound like some strange creep!’ At this point her face was as red as Harry’s and she was equally as embarrassed. 

“Uh, I think I’m good.” Harry responded in shock. ‘What does she mean by help?’

“I just.... I mean… I meant... t-that I’m going to go down and order breakfast. Would you like anything?” She stuttered out in shame, as she backed away towards the door. Tripping over Crookshanks who’s mirth was only hidden by the fact that there was no way to laugh in cat language. But the amusement danced behind his eyes and her embarrassment only grew. 

“What!” She shouted in filistougne not really looking for an answer as she picked him up and tucked him into her left arm. Throwing the door open and sprinting out of his room; she had left without even waiting for Harry’s response. 

Harry however, was torn between his own embarrassment and merriment after hearing the whole debacle that had transpired in his room. 

“What was all that.” He whispered, half puzzled to his reflection in the mirror. As his eyes scanned over his reddened cheeks and his smiling lips a realization came to him. What if she had seen his back. A thought that caused all the color to drain from his cheeks and his britches to finally loosen as it became more and more realistic in his mind. 

“What am I going to do?” 

After showering in extremely cold water, dressing in a plain Grey tee, paired with a blue pair of trousers and his new joggers. Harry made his way down stairs to the lobby, books in hand and terror in his heart. ‘What if she looks at me differently. What if she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore? What if she asks me about them? What if she judges me for them?’ All these questions rebounded and resounded within the catacombs of his mind. As he approached their table head hanging low and shoulders hunched over in defeat. He found that all his worrying was for not, because sitting at the table as she always did in the mornings with her head buried in a book and her scrambled eggs placed off to the side; with her fork in one hand poking into a fresh crumble of those golden morsels. Harry’s heart stumbled and his stomach fluttered, because there in front of his chair sat his favorite breakfast from hogwarts. French toast. 

‘She didn’t even waited for me to respond and yet somehow she knew.’ He thought as a soft smile graced his lips and after quietly placing his copy of me-sœur Recherche Charmes down on the table he pulled his chair back gently trying his best not to disturb her. His efforts were all for not because as he lent in to sit down in his chair she glanced over to him. Her cheeks coloring a pretty rouge almost immediately. 

“Hi Harry.” She offered shyly with a smile. “Hey Hermione, thanks for breakfast.” He replied with a dorky grin on his face. 

Somehow the color of her cheeks only grew deeper and Harry marveled at the fact that such a feat was possible. ‘ I’ve never noticed before, but; Hermione is really pretty.’ For a moment they just stared at one another both lost in the recesses of their own respective minds; thoughts of the other dominating all other things at the time. 

Should anyone had looked on at this scene with just a fleeting glance; they would’ve thought that this was the beautiful budding of a newly beginning young love. 

Those two weeks that they had alone together at the Leaky Caldron went by fast as the month of July was coming to a close. September 1st was catching up to them quickly, and with it; so was another year at Hogwarts.

Well aware that the holidays couldn't last forever, Harry was certain that this summer holiday had been the best one yet. 

One Friday afternoon Earol came tumbling in, crash landing into a pile of previously idle books. He was clutching two envelopes; one addressed to Harry and the other to Hermione. Though this had caused Hermione to launch into a lecture at the disarray of his writing once more, Harry couldn’t have been happier at the prospect of seeing his best mate once more. The letter Ron had sent them both stated that the Weasleys were not only on their way home, but explained that due to some leaky pipes in their house the entire family would be spending the rest of the holiday at the Caldron as they waited for the beginning of the next school year. 

Three days after receiving the letter, Mrs. Weasley was pulling Harry into one customary back-breaking hug before she checked him over for any injuries. Inquiring if he had been eating right and if he had all his books purchased, and his belongings packed. Like every overly doting mother would.

"Oh let him alone for a bit Ma," Ron said as he was trying to make his way over to his best mate.  
"You hush now Ronald. " She snapped right back and Harry couldn't help but chuckle as Mrs. Weasley began lecturing Ron on manners. Stopping only when Mr. Weasley patted him on the shoulder and called him off to the side with a need to have a proper discussion with him.

Leading him off to behind one of the pillars in the dining hall, before pulling out a copy of the Daily Prophet. Tapping at the picture of the screaming prisoner on the front page, he asked Harry what he knew about him.

"That's Sirius Black right?" Harry answered as he scratched the back of his head, wondering what any of this has to do with him. Clearly it must be important to his life, or at least enough that Arthur would pull him off to the side to talk like this.

“Yes, but is that all you know?” Arthur inquired further the nervousness was clear on his face 

"They still haven't caught him?" He questioned after giving it a second thought.

"No," Arthur replied looking at the picture once more. "Heard that they're pulling us off all our regular jobs at the ministry to try and find 'em, but there's been no luck so far." Mr. Weasley paused for a bit looking as if he was debating something when Mrs. Weasley walked over to them asking.

"So you'll be careful then Harry? While you're away at school that is." As she said this, it was almost as if all the color from Arthurs' face drained, before it was over come with a look of acceptance.

"Of Course, Mrs. Weasley… But if you don't mind me asking, why?"

"Well Harry you see Black is deranged and he seems to think that killing you will bring the dark lord back into power," Arthur stated before Molly could get the chance to lecture him on not telling him yet.

"Just before he escaped there were reports of him talking in his sleep. Well more like chanting in his sleep, and well he was reported to be saying. " He's at Hogwarts… he's at Hogwarts."” He finished and as if Molly was on the same wavelength as Arthur she continued where he left off without pause.

"And though we trust that Hogwarts is going to be perfectly safe this year. As it's always been, we just want you to be extra careful. With how you, Ron, and Hermione, are always running off and getting into trouble while you're there."

"What she means to say Harry is that we're worried about you." Arthur finished placing a firm hand on Harry's shoulder "So be careful will you?"

"Yeah I'll be careful, promise." With that the conversation ended, Harry thurley confused made his way back over to the now arguing Ron and Hermione. 

“Honestly Hermione keep that bloody thing away from my poor scabbers!” Ron cried as he tugged his old pet rat closer to himself in an effort to keep him as far from the growling Crookshanks that was held captive in Hermione’s arms. 

“I’ll get you for that you traitor! How could you do that to them! “ Crookshanks yowled at the rat, confusing Hermione thoroughly. It was all she could do to keep from asking him right then and there what he meant. 

“He’s a cat Ronald, I’m sure he didn't mean anything by it.” Hermione said as Sabbers chattered in the ginger boys hands. 

“He was your friend! They were your friends!” the half kneazle cried. “Whatever just keep him away from scabbers.” Ron started as he looked over to Harry and lit up. A new chance to contiue blathering about Egypt and how brilliant it all was. 

After what felt like hours of Ron pouring over picture after picture of his adventures in egypt, Ron made a comment that seemed to set Hermione off all over again. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure even sabbers was enjoying himself. Of course there were no cats there chasing him.” Truely, Harry believes this wouldn’t have been a problem had Ron not cut his eyes over to stare pointedly at Crookshanks, who was currently curled up in Hermione’s lap purring away. 

“You know, the Egyptians used to worship cats.” Hermione spat through clenched teeth while she tucked crookshanks in closer to her body. 

“Really? Well it’s a good thing they came to their senses then isn't it. Such a silly thing to worship, cats; who would want to worship them.” Ron replied without hesitation. 

The argument that insused after that left Harry wishing for the days where it was just him and Hermione there at the Leaky Cauldron reading their textbooks and the calm quiet times he got lost in thought just staring at her as she read. 

In the month that followed Harry and Hermione’s schedule adjusted to allot for the time where Ron would stumble down the stairs and find his way over to them still in his pajamas, hair in a mess and his order of pancakes and bacon with a side of eggs and toast. Nearly tipping over as he set them down on the table. Then as he gobbled up every last morsel of food, he would complain about how boring it was to simply sit there and read. Then he would pester Harry to play him in wizarding chess. “Just one more round, come on! I swear this will be the last one.” He would say and every time Harry would lemeant. Until the twins would since his urgent need of assistance and they would come ‘round with another prank that they wanted to either test out on Ron or say that they needed his assistance as a distraction to pull it off successfully. 

Harry’s favorite day since the Weasleys return was when they made a day trip to Diagon Alley. 

That meant that Arthur and Molly packed everyone up and ushered all seven of the teenagers that were residing with them at the Leaky Cauldron towards the back Alley way that worked as a shortcut for those with magic and the right to use it freely to enter Diagon Alley. 

Everytime Harry watched the way Molly managed her children he was always left amazed. She managed everyone with an efficiency that was akin to a ringleader of a circus. One look from her during these moments stung like the cracking of a whip would. If there was one thing everyone knew, it was that you do not mess around when Molly Weasly is in; as the twins called it: Mother Manger Mode, or M cubed for short. 

And much like the clock in her kitchen; even when her kids had disbursed she was always in the know of where her kids were.

After the hectic days spent with the Weasleys what had felt previously like a years worth of time disappeared as the days blurred together. Unexpectedly the tiro found themselves grabbing up all their luggage and heading off to Kings Cross Train Station; passing through the portal to Platform 9 ¾. They had been among the last to arrive at the train station however, due to Ron and Percy's argument. Apparently when Percy lost his head boy badge he had assumed that Ron; in a fit of jealousy had stolen it. The fight only ended when it did because Mrs.Weasley had flown into the main lobby of the Leaky Cauldron, her hair in a mess; and her only daughter Ginny following closely behind. Having overheard what they were bickering about, she told Percy that she had packed it away in the front compartment of his luggage last night after he had left it behind on one of the cafe tables.

Even with Mrs.Weasley's efficient and abrupt ending to the fight; the delay had taken up enough of their time so that when they as a large group were finally passing through the magical portal, most of the platform was bare with naught but some first year parents left standing and clutching to their children. As the young hogwarts students boarded the train, the entirety of the Wasley family dispersing from one another; the trio found that every other compartment on the train was occupied. They had been left with no choice but to sit in a compartment where a lanky man in a trench coat sat tucked into the right hand corner fast asleep.

"Wonder who he is. " Ron whispered to his friends, while he was giving the man a once over from his side of the compartment.

"His name is Professor R. J. Lupin," Hermione murmured in return.

"How'd you know that?" Ron Questioned before looking to Harry for validation that this wasn’t in fact common knowledge, but instead seemed to remain an unusual and uncanny ability of their dear friend. When Harry simply shrugged his shoulders; Ron asked once more. "How'd she know that? How is it she knows everything?"

"Honestly Ronald; it's on his briefcase," Hermione rolled her eyes saying this while pointing her finger up at the luggage rack above the man's head, where there was a small, battered briefcase held together with a large quantity of neatly knotted string. There in large black letters in the left hand corner said: Professor R. J. Lupin.

"Huh, wonder what he's gonna teach." Said Ron, frowning slightly at the professor in thought.  
"Defense against the Dark arts of course," Hermione replied matter-of-factly; resting her head on her knuckles, looking at the red head with a certain dispiritedness. "Obviously, since that's the only vacancy left isn't it." She clarified. 

It was such an unvarnished statement that it left Ron with little to nothing else to do but roll his eyes at her as he looked out the window that was to his left, muttering to himself.

“Bloody hell, I was only askin’.” 

In the silence that instilled; much like the sound of crickets creeping through an open window on a quite midsummer night. They heard a scratching sound near their feet as if scrappers were clawing at the bottom of his cage. Then the golden trio became acutely aware of another noise that had joined in. A muffled siren-like sound, that left them all perplexed. "What’s that?" Ron propped. 

Hermione, surveying with furrowed eyebrows, her mouth set in a frown said. "It seems to be coming from your bag Harry."

After a quick investigation of his bag, Harry produced a spiralling, squealing, Sneakoscope. The Very Sneakoscope that Ron had purchased for Harry as a birthday present, which he claimed was defective. 

"Is that a Sneakoscope?" Hermione asked earnestly, before standing up and moving closer to Harry to get a better look.

"Yeah… mind you it's a very cheap one," Ron answered as Harry nodded his head, mutely moving it away from his bag; the spinning slowing, and the wailing shriek quieting as he bought his hand towards his side. Bemused by this, he moved it back towards his bag, and the siren flaired to life once more. 

"It went haywire just like that just as I was tying it to Errol's leg; when I was trying to send it to Harry."

"Well were you doing anything untrustworthy at the time?" Hermione inquired shrewdly

"No!" He bellowed out abruptly then paused before continuing with. "Well I wasn't supposed to be using Errol, cause he's not really keen on long flights, and I had taken Sabbers out of his cage again even though mom had told me to keep 'em locked up so he wouldn't run off. But how else was I supposed to get Harry his present!"

“No, I don’t think that would be enough to set the Sneakoscope off. Even the cheap ones are still complexly designed; meant to only alert their owner that someone who harbors ill intent towards them is nearby.” Hermione stated matter-of-factly; rolling her eyes at the obliviousness of the boy. 

“Well then perhaps he’s the one that can’t be trusted.” Ron accused, wildly pointing a finger at the still slumbering professor. 

“If that were the case; then why did the Sneakoscope keep going off when you were all the way in egypt.” Harry scrutinized quickly the disbelief at his friends denseness written all over his face. 

“Well I don’t know, maybe there was someone there that was jealous of my family; or maybe this guy is stalking me.” Ron offered up once more, his face paling at the very idea. 

“Or Perhaps it’s his rat.” Crookshanks yawned from his cage beside Hermione. “He is a common denominator.” 

Mystified by the thought, Hermione bit her lip in wonder as she fought the urge to probe Crookshanks for more information.  
‘What could he possibly mean by that. Under that assumption then Ron could be just as likely to be the cause for the sneakoscope to be alerting us. However,’ With a scrunching nose and furrowed brow, Hermione thought. ‘But it did get calmer when Harry brought it closer to the seat that Ron and he were sitting in.’

"I don’t think Dumbledor would hire someone who has a tendency to stalk young wizards and their families all the way to egypt Ron. Irregardless, I'm just gonna put it away in my trunk otherwise it's gonna wake him up. " Harry stated as he gestured to the professor. But before he could move the train jerked forward and Hermione was sent crashing into Harry's chest. The Sneakoscope flew out from his hands landing directly in front of Scrappers cage emitted a shrill shriek and begun spinning faster than ever before.

Ron gabbing it up curiously, inspected the now silent trinket; oblivious to his two blushing best friends who were currently sprawled on one side of the seat.

Harry had only just manage to catch Hermione as she crashed into him face first, but in his haste, he hadn't paid attention to where his hands landed as he was moving to secure her.  
Now that everyone was safe however; the train having come to a stop. Harry and Hermione became acutely aware of the fact that presently, one of Harry’s hands were now resting on her ample bottom. The other was securely wrapped around her waist holding her firmly to his chest. 

Frozen in place; wide eyes locked in a bewildered staring contest with the others. They laid there, until Ron who was busy pushing and pulling the Sneakoscope up against other inanimate objects in the booth, spotted a black mass rush towards the train. 

"What was that?" He called out to his friends, placing his hand up against the window and pushing himself ever closer to, it as if to get a better look outside.

“What, was what?” Harry asked looking away from Hermione for the first time since they fell. His face flushed and his voice trembled with nerves. 

‘How do you explain this situation.’ Harry thought, as he expected to find Ron looking at them and their current predicament. His hands falling to Hermione's sides. Yet his eyes were only greeted with the sight of his redheaded mates silhouette backside. ‘That’s a sight I could do without being made eye-level with.’

Ever oblivious, Ron simply continued on. “There’s something moving out there.”  
"We can't be there yet," Hermione offered while pulling herself off of Harry, having finally found her footing. Looked around the compartment and mumbled. "So why have we stopped?"

Harry, now free of her weight keeping him pressed to the seat, made quick work of standing, and moved to look outside of the compartment; peeking his head just outside the door, he noticed that he wasn't the only one who had been curious enough to look. 

Without any warning all the lamps within the train went out, plunging everyone into total darkness.

While the windows began to frost under Ron's hand a clear indicator to the plummeting temperature inside and outside the train, the trio, looking around once more took note to the fact that they could see each of their respective breaths as it escaped from their lips.

"What is going on." Questioned Ron, having moved away from the window. He attempted to move towards his friends, stepping forward; his foot landed hard on top of something in his path. 

"Ouch Ron that's my foot!" Hermione exclaimed as she staggered back away from him. Feeling her way around behind her for something to grab onto to steady herself; she grabbed onto Harry, while Ron questioned if the train had perhaps broken down.

"…" Harry said as he tensed up when there was a squeaking sound, but turned around to see the dimly lit black outline of Ron trying to clear a patch of the window off from frost.  
"SEE THERE! Something moved! I told you guys there was something moving out there…" Ron's voice quivered as he spoke and then he tensed up too. "I think there are people coming aboard…" and the entire train began to be filled with screams and people trampling on each other trying to get away from whatever was scaring them.

Ron began freaking out. "Where's Ginny, Fred and George are they okay!" Then just as he was going to take off outside the compartment, he was thrown back into his seat, and a hoarse voice suddenly said.

" Sit down, and be quiet!" It would seem that Professor Lupin had finally woken up, Harry could hear movements in his corner, but no one spoke. Then came the soft crackling noise, and a shivering light filled the compartment. Professor Lupin appeared to be holding a hand full of flames that illuminated his tired, gray face. Yet his eyes were alert and wary.

"Stay where you are," he said in that same hoarse voice while he slowly approached the door, with his handful of flames held before him. Though the door of the compartment creaked slowly open and bony grayish slimy-looking, scabbed up fingers clutched at the edge of the door before throwing it the rest of the way open. Standing there in its place illuminated by the flames in the Professor's hands, was a figure that was cloaked in ragged black cloth that towered over Lupin. It faces completely cast in the shadow of its hood, yet what Harry saw made his stomach drop. This thing, whatever it was, looked like something dead that had been decaying in the water.

Almost as if the hooded cloaked figure sensed Harry's gaze, it looked towards him and drew a long ragged breath, as if it was trying to suck in something more than just the air in its surroundings.

Intense cold swept through the compartment and Harry felt a hand clutch tighter to him, glancing to his side for a moment he recognized the outline of Hermione's face next to him, as she shivered in fear at the sight of it. Looking forward again as the cold seeped into his skin and went straight to his chest, almost as if it was coming from his very heart, he made brief eye contact with pale cataract riddled, dead white eyes; and his world stilled, frozen like the icy air inside his lungs.

Harry's eyes rolled into his head, losing consciences with a rushing sound in his ears, he felt as if he was drowning in a sea of cold. Then he heard screaming, though it sounded far away, it was a terrified pleading scream that shook him to his core. So bad that he felt this insane need to help whoever it was that was screaming, trying to lift his arms, but finding that he couldn't as his body failed him and he was falling into a thick white fog that swirled around him and filtered inside him. Pushing out the cold and leaving him feeling numb –

"Harry! Harry! Are you alright?" Someone shouted while shaking him.

"Wh – What?" he questioned as he opened his eyes, his voice raspy and tight. The lanterns about him swayed and the floor felt like it was shaking. The Hogwarts Express was moving again, and the lights turned back on. ‘Had it all been just a nightmare?’

Looking to his side he saw the concerned face of Hermione as her arms extended and her hands on his shoulders. 'She must have been the one who had been shaking him.' While Ron and Professor Lupin looked over Hermione's shoulder trying to get a look at him, as he lay there on the seat.

Helping him into a sitting position Hermione quickly took a seat next to him to support him, so that he wouldn't fall over again.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked him nervously.

"Yeah," said Harry, as he raised a hand to his head, and leaned into Hermione's Shoulder a little more. "What happened? Where's that, that thing? Who screamed? Was it you Hermione?"

Suddenly everyone was looking at him as if he had grown a second head. Before Ron shuffled his feet nervously and said. "No one screamed Harry."

Harry looking around the compartment now noticed there were more people than just him, Hermione, Ron, and the Professor here. Looking to both Neville and Ginny, he wasn't shocked to see two white faces staring back at him.

"But I hear screaming – " Harry cut off shaking his head trying to get rid of the last of the fog that had gathered there. A loud snap came from a corner of the compartment that made all the people present jump before a hand was held out in front of Harry's face offering him a mountainous slab of chocolate.

"Eat this," The professor said placing it in his hands. "It'll help." Harry nibbled on the edge of the chocolate be for inquiring.

"What was that...thing?" looking to Lupin, who tensed slightly before answering.

"It was one of the Dementors of Azkaban."

Crumpling up the now empty candy wrapper stashing it in his pocket.

"Eat" He insisted once more to Harry. Who had still only nibbled on the chocolate?  
"It'll Help." He repeated. 

"I'm going to talk to the driver now that I know you're okay. Excuse me."

Sweeping out of the compartment Professor Lupin begun stalking down the corridor an angry determined look on his face. 

Hermione placed her hand on Harry's forehead and looked at him; her concern for the lad persisting even as it felt that his temperature had returned to normal.

"You sure you're okay Harry?" She asked anxiously; Ron cut in quickly after her and said.  
"I thought you were having a fit or something." Looking at Ron's face, he still looked scared beyond his wits. "You just went sort of rigid and fell over into the seat, and then you started twitching – "  
Ron trembled looking down with a frown at his friend; the image still fresh in his mind.

"And Professor Lupin just stepped in front of you, walking towards the bloody thing, and pulled out his wand," Hermione continued. "and said, '' None of us here are hiding Sirius Black, under our Cloaks, Now go' But the dementor wouldn't move, so then the Professor mumbled something under his breath and a silver looking thing shot out of his wand and pushed the Dementor back. Before it turned around and just sort of glided away."

"I felt weird," Said Ron, shrugging his shoulders uncomfortably. "Almost like I'd never be cheerful again…"

With all of this new information trying to process in his head, Harry unconsciously took a large bite of the Chocolate that the Professor had given him and was surprised to feel the heat of his fingers return and a warm comforting feeling rushed through him.

Then Professor Lupin was back and he chuckled at the look on Harry's face.

"I haven't poisoned that chocolate you know. So there's no need to look at it like that. " Lupin said, "We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes, are you alright Harry?"

Harry didn't ask how the professor knew his name assuming that he remembered it from when Hermione had called out for him earlier.

"Fine," He muttered out embarrassed as it seemed to him that he was the only one who had fainted.

As the train stopped at Hogsmeade station, there was a greater rush than usual for everyone to get off. Owls hooting, cat's meowing, and toads croaking. Hermione had to cover her ears from all the noise so that she could get her bearings.

"First years this way!" called a familiar voice and the trio turned to find the large silhouette of their old friend Hagrid. Giving them a quick wave he turned to lead the news students towards the docks, so that they would come across the Black lake to enter through the front doors to the corridor, and would take longer than the rest of the older students to get to the castle.

Harry had only just begun to feel better, when suddenly Draco Malfoy elbowed past Hermione to block their accent of the castle steps, his face gleeful and his pale gray eyes glinting maliciously.

"Is it true Potter? That you fainted? You actually fainted?" Malfoy said in a condescending tone when suddenly Ron moved past Harry blocking Draco's line of view, a sneer appearing on his face.

"Shove off Malfoy," Ron said Jaw clenched  
"Why? Did you faint as well Weasley?" Malfoy stated loudly, grabbing at Ron's chin and shaking his head back and forth while saying. "Did that scary old dementor frighten you too?" Ron, now feeling a little too much like a child shook Malloy's handoff and was about to retaliate when the conversation was interrupted.

"Is there a problem here?" Professor Lupin quizzed, his voice coated in a mild interest. When Draco looked over at the new professor, he gave him a look full of contempt. Before sarcastically stating "Oh – no Professor there's no problem at all." Then he turned away from the trio quickly and stormed off up the steps.

"Potter! Granger! I'd like to talk to you two in my office for a second." Professor McGonagall called out to them from down the steps, when all three of them stopped she quickly ascended the remainder of the stairs that were left between them and dismissed Ron away, insisting that what she had to say to the two was unnecessary for him to hear.

"You sure you're feeling alright there Potter? Professor Lupin sent a note ahead that said you had a nasty run in with those Dementors." She stated

"Yeah I'm the fine professor. " Harry retorted, his embarrassment at the whole situation only growing. ‘Have everyone and their mothers heard about this already? Who else is gonna bring this stupid thing up?’ 

"Well if you're sure, then you should at least eat some chocolate, Madam Pomfrey insist that it's the cure-all for it."

"I've already had some Professor.” Harry insisted, nodding his head after the retreating form of the new teacher. “Professor Lupin gave me some on the train, he gave all of us some actually."  
"Oh? Did he now? Finally, we have a Defense against the dark arts Professor who knows his cures." Professor McGonagall paused tapping her chin, then as if an idea struck her she spoke again.  
"Good, good. Very good. Then on to other matters; I see that you opted to take Ancient Runes, instead of Divinations this term. And I just want to say that I'm very proud of you for choosing to do the more difficult of the two." She patted him on the head and sent him on his way, excited to see how things would turn out now.

After a brief discussion with Hermione over her Schedule and ironing out a few difficulties, McGonagall made her way to the dining hall where she assessed the new additions to her House already proud of her new Gryffindor's as they chattered about making friends and getting along with their fellow housemates.

Then Albus stood to speak his usual piece, about the new year at Hogwarts, always ending with a clever quip. A small hint if you will, that would help the Students through the difficulties they were most likely to experience that year. With the Dementors roaming around and Sirius Black on the loose, this year he looked directly at Harry and said. "Happiness can be found even in the darkest of places if one simply remembers to turn on the light."

With the opening feast over, the students had a few days to relax and reacquaint themselves with each other; as the new students were receiving their tours around the castle, and adjusting to the dormitory life.

On the first day of classes, the third years made their way down to the castle dungeons for their potions class.

Upon entering the dark, dank, and dreary room the Gryffindor students too note of the fact that just like the years prior. They were sharing their potions class with the Slytherin house. 

Being that they were rival houses, it always made for a lively and competitive hour. Much to Snapes dismay. 

Both houses taking to their respective sides, quickly paring off one by one with their classmates. Harry instinctually followed Hermione up to the front of the class; while Ron, who had dragged his feet all the way to the classroom, hadn’t even made it past the door. As usual he was much too tired to be worried about whether he got to be partners with one of them or not. 

Only moments later, he would come to realize that he should have been more alert; or have had a greater sense of urgency. By the time he reached an empty table and had dragged his eyes up off the floor he made direct eye-contact with the only other person who was just as slow as Ronald Weasley was in the early mornings. There stood none other than the Golden Trio’s worst nemesis; Draco Malfoy.

Regret was a thick taste on his tongue that Ron would not soon forget. 

Professor Snape, who was generally never known to be a happy ray of sunshine, couldn't be described as anything other than overly excited when he banged open the door to the third-floor corridors potions classroom.

Ironically this only terrified his students more, having never in their three years at Hogwarts seen that greasy old git, wear anything other than a scowl on his face.

‘Today is the day that I get to introduce the students to their brand new potion challenge. At last something new for me to advise.’ Snape gleefully smirked as he thought over all the possibilities this particular potion could create.

Knowing that it was an extra grueling experience for students of any level. He was delighted to get to test it on such young candidates. In fact, this potion was even a challenging potion for him, and he was a potions master. 

"Arome Ame Soeur is a particularly powerful love potion that you all will be learning for the next few months, the proper procedure for brewing is a complex one as the ingredients all require you to handle them to a certain specificity in order for the brewing to be successful. Once all ingredients have been properly prepped, added into your mixture, and you have reached the steeping process, you will stir it counterclockwise 46 six times once a week, and clockwise 12 times twice a week. 

This part of the process, if done correctly; takes two months. You will know the potions is complete and brewed properly, by the well-known luminous golden color. If brewed correctly it should secret a warm scent that differs depending on the person's taste. Similar to that of the Amortentia potion." Professor Snape paused in his lecture to allow the students time to comprehend everything that was said.

Looking around the room, he was pleased to see that there was not a single dreary eye in the room. Even Mr. Weasley who was notorious for sleeping through his lectures was wide awake and alert. Beginning to pace back-and-forth in front of the chalkboard, looking pensive; hands tucked behind his back, he spoke again. 

"This potion is a tool used in finding one's soul-mate. Though unlike other potions, even when brewed successfully; Arome Ame Soeur is not safe to ingest, due to the toxic/in some cases deadly ingredients used in the brewing process.

Furthermore this potion is only one-third of a three part process that you will need to have completed, to accomplish this assignment." Pausing once more he halted his movements, and turned to face the now stunned students with a flourish of his black cloak. Resisting the urge to smile at the many faces of varying levels of shock. Snape continued now walking down the aisle between the stations of students that were paired off.

"That is why," Snape continued. "the students from the third year and above, have had a massive change to their class syllabi. If any of you bothered to look, you would find that not only are we brewing Aroma Ame Soeur, here in potions. But you will also be working on the other corresponding two-thirds of this assignment in your respective charms and transfigurations classes."

The entire room was in an uproar, as all the students were chattering about how certain they were that this was the first time anything like this had happened. Everyone Wondering just how the professors could assign something that would take up their time in not just one but three of their usual seven core classes.

"You will also have noticed, that the time schedules have been moved around and you now have your Potions, Transfigurations, and Charms classes on the same day. This is so you will all have access to the entire amount of information that this particular magic requires. As you open your books to page 134, we will begin to discuss the ingredients, and their importance…” 

A/N: Okay everyone so we've been introduced to the first part of the Assignment, yes it is more complicated than just a potion. You didn't think I would let it be that simple did you? Anyway, next chapter we'll be finishing up with the details of the assignment and we’ll get to see some entertaining interactions between a few of our favorite characters! Hopefully, you guys like it! Don't forget to R&R I'll be seeing you all soon!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: To Anon review: Yes, I still included the scene from the book where it hints at the time-turner's existence: because Hermione still receives the time turner in the beginning of their third year. She does still attend divinations; Harry is the only one who is solely in ancient runes. 

When you reviewed this chapter you were reviewing a chapter that no longer fit perfectly into the story after editing the chapters prior to this. I was in the process of editing this now very long chapter; so a lot of the information that was in the version you were reading has been modified, hopefully it will make more sense now. In this new version of the chapter there is a scene where Hermione is speaking with crookshanks about the entire situation: He asks her some very important questions like how she ended up taking divinations, even though over the summer she had been adamant that she would only be taking Ancient Runes. Try to remember that this is a Romance/ Angst genre story so not everything will be clear in the beginning. However it will become clear over time. My current goal is to put more emphasis on the strain their chaotic life put on the trio's friendship; because I personally believe that even though they were faced with life or death situations on a yearly basis J.K. Rowling didn't display the proper amount of tension that a life like that would cause between three young teenagers. 

Everything does workout in the end for the three and they do still remain the golden trio. I just believe it will be a lot more gratifying after everything is said and done in my story. 

Let me warn you, if you thought that chapter 3 had been a hefty read this chapter far surpasses its predecessor. She’s a biggen.

That being said, back to the story. 

Chapter Four: Soul Searching for the Stone.

As they made their way to transfiguration which happened to be all the way on the other side of the castle. Hermione was practically bouncing with every step she took, clearly bubbling over with anticipation from learning a new advanced magic that would require the use of all her favorite classes.

“Hey wait for me!” Ron called after them his shoes rapidly clomping on the hard stone floors of the castle echoed his chase and brought the pair to a stop in the middle of the hallway. 

“Bloody hell Ron, what took you so long to leave Potions?” Harry inquired as one of his eyebrows rose towards his hairline. 

"I can't believe you guys left me to be partners with Malfoy!" Ron exclaimed in between heaving breaths. He neglected to acknowledge Harry’s question having been too preoccupied with catching his breath to properly hear his mates concern. 

"That’s preposterous, we didn't leave you to it. How are we responsible for your Potions Partner? If you recall we weren't the ones dragging our feet this morning Ronald.” Hermione replied her bubbly demeanor somehow doing nothing to soften the words as they flew from her mouth.

“Don’t blame us for your decision not to get out of bed this morning; when Harry tried to wake you. And I for one was not going to be late on the very first day of classes. It's entirely your own fault that you and Draco are partners this year." Hermione answered him with a shrug of her shoulders, clutching her book closer to her person.

“Blimey Hermione, not everyone is as excited by academics as you are, you know!” Ron countered, as he finally caught his breath. 

“There is nothing wrong with being excited about learning. Some of us actually want to do something with our lives other than possibly being a Wizard Chess Champion Ronald! Do you realize, if you spent even a quarter of the time you’ve committed to playing that game on your studies you’d never have to worry about your scholastic grades again?”

“Yeah, you and Malfoy were the only ones who dared to walk into Snape's classroom after the bell.” Harry quickly interjected the empeding argument in an attempt to stop the rising tension between his two friends. He offered an awkward chuckled, grateful that it wasn’t him. Though he wasn’t sure which would be worse, being on the receiving end of Snape's eire for the umptenth time or on Hermiones for the first. Something deep down in his gut pulled at the thought and his mind whispered her name.

“But I get it mate, partnering up with Malfoy isn’t anyone's first choice. Especially since potions class is first-thing in the morning this year. You’re just lucky that even Snape wasn’t on time today. Otherwise being potions partners would’ve been the least of your worries. Remember when he threatened us with a month's detention for every minute we were late in last year?” Harry continued hoping to further distract both his nearly quarreling friends and himself from his confusing thoughts.

“Right,” Ron shivered, the memory of Snape’s piercing gaze coming to the forefront of his mind. “He definitely would’ve given me that detention at the end of class had he known that I had been late too.” 

“He threatened to give you detention?” Hermione asked while glancing over at the freckled boy, curiosity coating her features as she tucked a strand of unruly hair behind her ear. 

“Yeah! He said he’d stick me and Malfoy with a month's detention if we didn’t stop our “squabbling” and leave his classroom that instant.” Ron proclaimed, shaking his head in disdain. “I’ve never heard of someone getting detention for not leaving a classroom before.” 

“Well most students that stay behind after class usually aren’t there because they’re too busy fighting with each other to have noticed the bell.” Hermione said with a shrug of her shoulders as her mind wandered to other matters. 

Secretly she was happy to be the one who got to be partners with Harry this year. Normally she would be stuck with Lavender Brown, one of her dorm-mates who, in Hermione's honest opinion, wasn't all too particularly bright. While Ron would've partnered up with Harry and that would've been the end of it, as it had been for the previous two years. 

But thanks to Ronalds self-inflicted misfortune; she got to be the one standing beside Harry for the whole year. ‘Plus, Harry is a much better potions partner than Lavender.’ Hermione thought to herself as they walked through the doors to Transfigurations. Completely missing Ron’s response to her gentle taunting or the way his head hung slightly in shame when she ignored him. 

~

"...Clear your minds of all other matters; let your heart guide its shape. Then when the picture becomes clear in your minds-eye speak the incantation D'une flamme jumelle; while you move your wand in an anticlockwise circle about your objects. " Professor McGonagall explained mimicking the movements about a small piece of cobblestone in a calm tone. Pausing periodically to point to the chalkboard that was to her left where all the diagrams that explained the true complexity of the spell were depicted. 

“Um, Professor?” Came the perplexed timbers of a young Neville Longbottom “ Nothing is happening.”

“Yes, Mr. Longbottom, nothing will happen in this instance because I’m simply demonstrating the process, and motions that are required. This mundane cobblestone will not transform for me, as it is not meant to.” McGonagall lemented, but she could understand where his confusion had come from. 

Typically for her transfiguration assignments, she found it best to give a demonstration, where she would show the students what the objects were supposed to look like after the transformation was completed. Then assign the students a trial period where they would then try to replicate the very same thing she had just created. Thus she had always been able to strictly follow her students' progress, and help them accordingly.

On this particular assignment she felt as if adhering to her usual teaching habits could be more damaging to the students final product. If she were to give them a visual example for the final result it very easily could miss guide her pupils into attempting to replicate her design. 

Explaining this to the students in the younger classes, proved to be a rather difficult task in comparison to the students in their sixth and seventh years.

The seventh years in particular had taken to the open assignment like a fish to water. As most were just thankful to have a change from the same mundane repetition of transfigurations that they’ve been subjected to for years, and the fair few were excited by the implication that this project had no “correct” or “expected” result. 

“Even if I did cast the charm to show you what the finished item could look like, it would do nothing but deture your final transfigurations as they would undoubtedly look different no matter how many incantations are cast. No one soul is truly alike Mr. Longbottom. They only ever complement and complete each other; similar in fashion to a muggle puzzle piece.” McGonagall paused, as she noticed understanding begin to slip over the eyes of many muggle-borns, and muggle-raised students. But the students who had been raised solely in the magical world still looked utterly confused. Again Neviell raised his hand with a question, and once more she called on him to answer it. 

“I’m not entirely sure what you mean professor. We haven’t covered puzzles in muggle studies yet.” 

“Then think of it like this, the process is similar to that of becoming an animagi: where the witch or wizard casting the incantation is meant to meditate on their form and they have no real say in the final shape it will take. Making this project a perfect segway into the Animagi magic we will be covering next term.” 

This seemed to reignite the fire into the eyes of her students, bringing them back from the brink of slumber and confusion. Animagi always interested the young until they found out how demanding it was to become one. Even still it was rare to find a moment such as this where there wasn’t a single child in the room who was disinterested. 

As a long time professor of this school, such a feat was a victory even if it meant having to explain the entire process multiple times. 

Yet this particular group seemed more keen than the rest of her classes, and she found that all the extra time she had allotted for questions was filled more with long bouts of silence and quiet murmuring between the students as their excitement built. 

She tried to prolong it as much as she could but when it came right down to it, she had no real time to start on the next class discussions and too much time left in the class hour. 

The very idea that she was setting thirteen year olds free fifteen minutes yearly set her nerves on end, but she got a little peace of mind from the knowledge that her half of this assignment wouldn't really be able to begin until every student had found their gems.

‘Obviously I’ll have to account for the fact that some might not find their stones; if their soulmate has either not yet been born or isn’t in attendance at this school. But I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.’ McGonagall speculated, before eyeing the clock once more; dismissing the children with a final statement about their assignment. 

"Your homework for the next few weeks is to explore the campus grounds looking for a gem, stone, or rock that is particularly pleasing to you. Whatever it is that you find, will then become the object you will be casting this spell on for the remainder of the assignment.”

It felt strange to be sending such young children on a mission to find their soulmates. ‘Who can even truly comprehend a love like that when they are that young.’ McGonagall thought to herself. As she watched the backs of her young pupils shuffle their way out of her classroom. 

However the younger they were, ironically, vastly increased their chances of finding their stones. 

As a Witch or Wizard ages, they reach a certain level of physical and mental maturity where their soul stones begin to dissipate back into their bodies, rejoining the rest of their soul and ultimately increasing said Witch or Wizards magical capacity.

Typically the larger the soul, the more magical capacity would be housed outside of the body, and as a result the more precious the gem will be. In some cases the soul can be so large and house so much magical potential that it could be physically harmful for the being to absorb all of its power. In situations such as this the Witch or Wizard will then wear their stone as some sort of accessory, and use it to amplify their power for particularly difficult spells. Those stones would gradually disappear over time as well, but often it would take centuries for them to fully dissolve instead of the average few decades.

The only written record the Wizarding world has of Witches and Wizards who were that powerful is that of the most famous Sorcerer Merlin, and the Four Founders of Hogwarts. 

Some rumors speculate that Merlin's soul was so large however that his stone is still here on earth, and offers a great power to those who wield it. 

‘Thankfully,’ She thought ‘this shouldn’t take too long, and hopefully the students won't have to look all that far for them, since soul stones move from one area to the next much like their physical bodies. Though they will still have to search the entirety of the castle grounds… ‘

“Perhaps I should’ve said that…” Minerva muttered into her hand as her next class for the day filtered in through the doors and made their way to their seats. “I truly hope my instructions haven't been too vague.”

After giving the children a rundown of all the mundane necessities of the particular pronunciations for there new charm spell, and assuring them that this charm was really only to ensure that they and the soul stones owner could see their accessories, prior to transfiguring their objects under Professor McGonagall supervision. 

“This is of course simply an extra precautionary step to keep any unwanted and prying eyes away. As you all are still rather young there shouldn’t be many of your peers that are too particularly interested in line theft,” Flitwick paused chuckling slightly. “but still many lords and ladies had to endure vast amounts of hexing and vile potions before this charm was created…” Professor Flitwick continued on explaining the charm, adding in a few anecdote stories here and there about how the magical communities slowly stopped using soul stones as the knowledge seemed to fade over the years and its original importance disappeared like clouds would with a strong wind. 

“For those of you who are still confused think of it as a more complex notice-me-not glamor.” Flitwick announced and then he quickly sent both houses on their way, either to go home to their respective dormitories or to wander about the castle with their friends. He had strongly advised them to begin their assignments with the new free time they were being provided with. But he knew that only a fair few would heed his advice. 

Professor Litwick was particularly pleased to have more free time in the first few weeks of classes due to this project and had far less concern over the fact that these younglings who were only just on the precipice of their hormonal teenage years, were free to roam and do as they please much sooner than usual than his co-professor Manerva was. 

Instead he decided he would utilize this time to focus on the first years intro classes that had to cover a vast majority of the basics of charms; more so than he would’ve liked, as it seemed the most of the new students this year were muggle-borns that weren’t nearly as bright as his favorite student Hermione was. 

‘Tis still such a pity that she be a lioness instead of one of my ravens.’ He lamented for a moment. “But at least I can use this newly acquired spare time to offer lengthier office hours to the young muggle-borns who are in desperate need of tutelage.” 

By the end of the day, it had taken the Gryffindor and Slytherin houses far longer to get to their respective classes, as they argued over which house was better and who would find the best, most precious, and or largest gems of the bunch.

Including the minor spats of tormentation that Harry endured from Malfoy and his groupies, mostly about his fainting spell on the train. Then it had actually taken for the Professors to explain to them the incantations and the motions they would need to practice, for proper execution. 

With their classes over and the students still having plenty of time left before they even had to report to the dining hall for dinner.

Hermione insisted that the trio get a head start on scouring the castle grounds for their gems as she pushed at the backs of the otherwise protesting boys, who would rather have journeyed to the great hall and played a bout of wizards chess. 

As it was she was forcefully escorting them to the library. Firstly for some research on the subject of soul stones in hopes that her beloved books would offer once more their usual great assistance on where they should begin their search…

Four hours later and Hermione, who had been diligently scouring page after page of information on Soul stones and their likeness. While buried under a mountiness pile of tomes was disturbed from her studies by a rather loud snore. Peering over the top of her barricade her eyes immediately landed on the coppery red hair of a recumbent Ronald; who’s sheer boredom and continuous loathing for all things scholarly had, had the same effect as a nasty knockout jinx. 

There he lay loudly snoring with the smallest bit of drool pooling on the table top. ‘Honestly Ronald.” Hermione sighed as she stretched. Her muscles, stiff from maintaining the same position for too long protested and popped. 

With another thunderous snore from her redheaded friend she snatched up her wand and casted a quick “Silencio” as Madam Pince shot a rather perturbed look over at their table. Hermione might be counted among the few favorites that Madam Pince keeps. But there were still limitations on her leniency. Continuously disturbing the peace and quiet was one of such limitations. 

“Best to nip that in the butt less she chooses to kick us out.” Hermione mumbled to herself as Ron’s snoring faded away, and her eyes began to seek out contact with her emerald eyed friends all on their own. But Harry, Hermione noticed, was nowhere to be found. 

She would’ve noticed his absence sooner if not for the fact that she had been so engrossed in her findings she figured, as usually if Harry even so much as shifted in his seat she’d notice. But in her sheer need for answers she had developed a tunnel-vision of sorts for the knowledge that laid before her.

Yet even after all her dedicated searching, she was left with an open ended comment on how most often people end up finding soul stones in places of peace, or what others described as their most preferable places. Which really could be anywhere, since they are searching for the stones of their soulmates. In fact there had been much more in the books about telling the difference between your soul stone and that of your soulmates than there was information on finding them. 

‘Harry’s not the kind to leave without letting me know... and if Ron is still here then he must not have left the library.’ She pondered as she shot a quick glance around the study area searching for the unruly black hair of her green eyed best friend. 

Harry had taken the chance to slip away from the study table when he had noticed Ron’s eyes closing for long periods of time, a clear indication that he would soon be subjecting all current living and ghost inhabitants of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Library to his obnoxious snoring. 

The very thing that had kept him wide awake deep into the early hours of the morning most nights in their first year, it was thanks to his snoring that Hermione had insisted that they both learn the silencing charm well before most even pondered over the idea. 

But Harry had more pressing matters to think on currently than to presumptively silence his friend. Or remain at the table and endure the harsh rumbles, as he failed for the millionth time to keep himself focused on the task at hand. 

Thoughts that he simply couldn't rationalize or wrap his head around were too busy plaguing him with every waking minute, to allow him even an ounce of manual focus. 

Most of his treacherous thoughts featured Hermione these days, as he found his eyes continuously drawn to her whenever they were near enough. Which was almost all the time with only the few exceptions of visits to the loo and retiring to their dormitories for the night.

Truly most of the time he found himself zoning out in his observations of her. One particularly confusing thought as of late had been his sudden urge to reach out and toy with a lost strand of hair, after he watched it slip from its loose bindings and fall forward towards her face. 

Luckily enough Hermione had self corrected the issue by tucking the strand behind her ear instinctively. An action which clearly demonstrated it was a regular occurrence for the young witch.

The memory of it still left his fingers twitching, so he had tucked his hands into his pockets and wandered away from the table unnoticed. 

Then there was also his most recent visit to Dumbledore's office where the old headmaster had broached the subject of Sirius Black’s escape from Azkaban in a similar fashion that Authur Weasly had in the waning days of their summer vacation.

‘Who is Sirius Black, and why is his escape in everyone's opinion so relevant to me?’ Harry wondered as he ran a hand through his ever disheveled hair. 

He had begun to simply drift from aisle to aisle, idle in his thoughts and his shoulders slumped as if they were being subjected to a heavy weight which was continuously pushing them down. Till he stumbled upon a small reading crook, which housed two couches and a rather comfy looking cushioned arm chair. Slipping into the seat he slouched into the padding rejoicing in the comfort it offered him as he vaguely wondered if Hermione knew about this little alcove.

He drifted off with images of her tucked into the very same chair as him, tucking a rebellious piece of hair back behind her ear as her greedy eyes and ravenous mind quickly continued to pursue whatever books lay before her; played like a favorite movie in his mind. 

Then there was a hand on his forehead and her voice calling his name, when he opened his eyes again Hermione stood above him peering down at him in concern. None of this was new to him, besides his jittery response. One second he was staring into the deep brown eyes of his best friend, the next he was staring at the ceiling, his feet in the air and him and the armchair he had claimed now both laid on their backs in an undignified manor. 

And a large tear drop like gemstone cluster rolled out from in between the cushions straight into his open hand that laid slightly above his head. 

~

"Bloody hell." Mumbled Ron the next day as he leaned heavily on his currently vacant divinations table. Coming to terms with the fact that both Harry and Hermione weren't lying when they told him they weren't taking Divinations this year in their letters. 

He had been so certain that at least Hermione was lying, because of the way she kept looking down at her feet while chewing on her lip, and picking at the edge of her shirt sleeves while they were reviewing their class schedules. Usually she was such a wretched liar that her tells were blatantly obvious. 

But here he was sitting all alone in divinations, proving that in truth, he had been wrong.

As it was; for now there seemed to be an odd number of students in the class so Ron had no partner; with how sure he was that he had been the last one to wander into class, and that all they were waiting on now was their rumoredly scatterbrained seer of a teacher. 

He adjusted his belongings until the chair to his right was filled and he quickly propped his foot onto the chair that was immediately to his left. ‘At least with no one else to share this small table with I’ll have room to relax a little.’ He thought. 

With a bang the door to the classroom burst forward, its hinges screeching in a harsh protest at such brash treatment. While a pompous smirk wearing, steel gray eyes and shaggy blonde hair having boy clad in a deep Slytherin green waltzed into the classroom looking very much like he owned the place. Though his smirk began to slip as he clearly came to the same realization that Ronald Weasley had in an instant. The only table with any seats open was the one where Ron was sitting in solitude. Quickly his Smirk turned into a frown and the gleam in his eyes turned into a sharp glare that was meant to cut straight through him. 

Ron simply answered it with a menacing glare of his own, all his frustrations from the fact that he had been paired with Draco Malfoy in potions for the year, and now having been abandoned by his friends yet again boiled within him, his cheeks heating in frustration and his ire on the tip of his tongue as he realized he would be forced to work with him in divinations as well. 

As Draco neared the table he took note of the relaxed form of his red headed foe. Assessing which way was best to assert his dominance in the situation, he moved toward the seat that had Ron’s foot resting on it and swatted it off. Pulling it around the table so that he was as far from the ginger boy as possible. 

“HEY!” Ron bellowed out in protest, piercing blue eyes: frosted over and guarded, clashed with sharpened steel; and faulted under the pressure. Two freckled arms shot up to ruffle rusty locks under the impression of a frustrated sigh.

"Listen Malfoy, we're obviously gonna have to work together in this class as well. So how's about you keep to your side of the table, and I'll keep to mine. This way we'll only interact when we absolutely have too. " Ron offered.

With a scoff Malfoy elegantly sat down across from him, drumming his fingers on the table in contemplation. Weighing the odds, knowing how much he enjoyed a red-faced Weasley, and the way his eyes looked like cloudy skies with lightning streaking through them when he was enraged; it didn’t look favorable for getting along with the lad. 

"What, afraid you couldn't keep up otherwise Weasley?" He challenged. Having decided that if he was to be stuck with the ginger a second time, he might as well get some entertainment from it.

"Oh sod off Malfoy, I was just trying to be decent!" He practically yelled, hot-headed as always, Ronalds treaty flew off the table with the gust of a biting wind. One more scoff and it became apparent that they had agreed they wouldn't be getting along anytime soon.

Once more the doors to the classroom opened, this time a tall and scraggly looking lady with glasses so thick that she must have been practically blind wandered through. 

“What use is a seer that can’t see?” Malfoy huffed, rolling his eyes at the twig like woman. 

Mindlessly Ron found himself nodding his head in agreement, much too bewildered at the state of their teacher still to realize that he had just been agreeing with Draco. 

In that moment Ron decided one thing was certain: he would be using her inability to see to his advantage many times for the rest of the year. Knowing how much he enjoyed his sleep he would more than likely be late once or twice with no Harry to pull him out of the dorms. 

Having a class this early was more like setting a goal for himself then a rule. Ron thought.

“Everyone please make your way over to the china cupboards in the corner; grab yourselves a tasseography cup and saucer, and bring them back to your table.” Professor Trelawney spoke in an airy voice, waving one hand towards the wooden cabinet in the corner, and flicking her wand out towards the tea pots with the other. She filled and heated the water inside, while floating them through the air towards their respective tables without so much as a fault in her steps as she crossed the threshold towards her seer sphere in the center of the room where a cup was already steaming and ready for her. The students however; had to duck and dodge the flying teapots as they made their way over to the cupboard. Certainly it was a sight to see, should one happen upon the classroom at this moment. The nearly blind teacher was walking confidently and the students with perfect vision were dancing around heated projectiles. 

As it was, the students who had elected to stay behind at their tables and simply sent their friends to collect their perspective glasses were vastly entertained.

“Once you’ve gotten your cups, you will need to select your tea leaves from the bowls presented on the tables before you.” The professor continued, another wave of her hand making the bowls of tea leaves seemingly appear out of nowhere in the center of every table. 

“Be very careful when doing so, because you’ll soon find that these herbs hold more than just your beverage in their petals.” The Professor chuckled at her joke as she twirled her for-finger, magically struring her own cup of tea in front of her. 

“Bloody rubbish, as if a plant can tell me my future.” Malfoy muttered under his breath, tea cup in hand. “I wish now more than ever that all the spots for Ancient Runes hadn’t already been filled by the time that I signed up from my classes this term.” 

“As if you could’ve passed Ancient Runes.” Ron snipped over his cup as he used the wooden spoon that was on their table to scoop up his favorite: Jasmine infused Green tea. 

“Oh? And how about you ey Weasley? Did you even attempt to sign up for the class? Or did you already know that you weren’t capable of such grandeur?” Draco supplied while eyeing up a rather delicious looking Mango Black tea. 

“Shut your mouth Malfoy.” Ron quipped in return his ire with the lad near ready to bust out from the seams of the tightly capped lid he was keeping it under. But he said little else, as he knew that he had elected to go for the easier class by choice and had never intended to even attempt learning Rune-work. 

“I strike a nerve there weasle-be?” Came Malfoys self satisfied retort, before Professor Tawney started discussing the different qualities of each tea and what it’s leaves are capable of foretelling. 

“Fruit teas are particularly adept at predicting in depth love prophecies, where flower infused teas will predict various parts of your future, including but not limited to relations that you have with the people presently in your life. If you turn to page 96 in your Divination textbook, you’ll see a list of the teas that we are working with today…” She continued on but Ron drowned her out as he stared into his cup, wondering over what his friends were up to in Ancient Runes; his eyes clouding over; and his hand instinctively swirling the glass. Ron had always loved the way the color of the water would change as the herbs regained their moisture. Sometimes he felt as if he could see images in the pigment as it moved through the water. Particularly he enjoyed the fact that even the suddulest of teas could become quite potent should you saturate the herbs long enough. That’s why Jasmine tea was his favorite, it was a subtle tea that when left to steep for a long period of time would become pungent. 

Something that always reminded him that though he is the youngest of the Weasley brothers and had felt as if he was some awkward kind of diluted splendor in comparison to all of his ingenious brothers, who had all very quickly fallen into the things that they not only vastly enjoyed but were also brilliant at. 

Even the twins, who were only one and a half years older than him their age just enough to put them two years ahead in Hogwarts schooling were already creating mock shops for jokes and pranks. Ron had heard them whispering to each other all summer holiday about some hidden empty room that they thought would be perfect to open up shop in. To be kept top secret of course, strictly for students only. 

Of this and other things Ron pondered as he sipped his tea choosing to lose himself in the ambered colored liquid instead of humoring any of the muttering coming from bloke on the other side of their small table. 

"Okay children, let us all trade tea cups with the person who's sitting directly across from you; and read what the leaves are saying about their future! " Professor Tawenry cawed in a mystic voice, and every student present was certain she had lost her mind, in that oh so great "beyond " she was just wailing about. 

Ron began flipping through his text searching for anything about foretelling on Mango tea leaves. ‘Maybe I should’ve listened to the Professor more.’ He thought. Professor Trelawney herself was much to entertain with scanning through their auras; judging whether her precious pupils were in the beyond or not to notice his predicament. But he found the drumming of fingers along the tabletop, set his nerves on edge. Foot bouncing, as he tried in vain to check his temper: the last thing he needed was to lose his cool over something that Malfoy was doing.

While his agitation was leading Malfoy to grind his teeth, his fingers moving faster, and losing the focused rhythm he had set them too. This Weasley was just begging him to lose his cool, unsure over what it was that irked him so much when it came to this particular wizard. 

Draco was certain that before the end of this class they would be fighting again because everything that this redhead did was a bother, and nothing would calm him down more than yelling at him. 

In all honesty, upsetting the redhead was more entertaining than the thought of frustrating anyone else. Though that didn't mean he wouldn't still pick on others, like Potter and the mud-blood; annoying people could be a means to an end after all.

“YOU THERE!” The Professor proclaimed pointing her hand out towards the now startled pair. “Your aura is pulsing dear, are you in the beyond?” She continued as she scurried her way over to their table and latched onto Ron’s shoulder, leaving the young ginger with nothing else to do but to nod his head and utter. “Uhh… Sure?” 

Thrilled she couldn’t contain her excitement as she inquired. “Well come then, what does it say?” 

“Uh, it says... “ Ron paused looking closely at the shapes the leaves had taken, and glancing at his book he continued. “Well there’s a broom here, which means you’ll be involved in a scandal that will have to be cleared up... and this line here says: you’ll live a long life, next to a ring which means: in a happy marriage… There's also a man and a woman on either side of the ring which can signify an affair, and there's a snake under the woman which can mean... betrayal.” Ron paused and his eyes faded in their sharpness as his mouth started to move and say things of their own accord. “You’ll be involved in a third party situation brought about by means that are not your own, of which your lover will misunderstand and see as an affair. Which could ruin your relationship meant for marriage. You’ll have to clear up this scandal with your loved one to have a long life in a happy marriage. Otherwise you’ll be entangled by the snake and nothing but misfortune will come your way.” Ron finished in a daze his eyes seemingly staring straight through the body of Darco as he gave him his reading. 

“SPLENDID!!!” Professor Tawney screeched as Ron stopped speaking, shocking everyone within the room. “I dare say boy, you’d make a wonderful deviner. There’s not a soothsayer around that I’ve seen in all my years teaching here who’s taken to reading quite like you.” She continued as she pat Ron on the back confidently. Proud to finally have a prodigy. Draco scoffed at this, crossing his arms over his chest. “Bloody rubbish if you ask me. Ensnared by a snake? As if that will ever happen.” 

Professor Tawney paused as she took in the words of the boy, she moved her eyes over his aura and saw its color shift to a muddy blue and flicker in worry. A small smile slid across her lips as she simply nodded her head and moved off to another table. ‘Let him play bravely for now, but the boy's words did strike a cord with him.’ Glancing back to their table once more she saw the muddy blue start to swirl with a gentle soft blue,that grew in intensity as she moved her eyes towards the young Mr. Weasley. ‘Interesting. He finds comfort in the lad.’ 

~

While all the way across the castle in Ancient Runes: deep emerald eyes wandered away from the pages of their assigned text in favor of devouring the sight of golden brown hair that bushed out at the sides, and focused in on a stray strand that was falling in front of dark chocolate brown eyes. 

Harry wasn't certain that he could be anything but absolutely blind, not to notice anything about her before. Now that his eyes travel to her familiar form more often than they would retain anything of context, from the readings they had been assigned. Never one to fidget before, it wasn't long until his restlessness was noticed, after all, she was the brightest witch he knew.

"Is something wrong Harry?" Hermione whispered quietly reaching up and tucking that rebellious strand back behind her ear.

"Is there something you don’t understand?" she prodded further spurred on by his obvious bewilderment.

"N-no I'm just a bit distracted is all." Harry insisted much too embarrassed to tell her that she was what was distracting him. He forced his nose back into his book and read over the first sentence once more, trying in vain to make his brain retain it.

"Honestly Harry," Hermione's exasperated voice interrupted his efforts. "you've been on that same page for years. If you're that distracted by something perhaps you should just look on with me." She offered politely, before promptly closing her book and moving closer to him. Snatching up his text she placed it securely in the middle of them both, she began quietly reading out loud.

“Ancient Rune Creation; a fantastic introduction to chaos magic. In its basic forms rune work is extremely easy to do, completely safe, and only requires a bit of time and a clear concept of what you’re trying to create. Although there are a vast number of variations of the rituals for creating and activating a rune, it is the most common method that will be discussed in this text. This being the first book in a long series of texts that are dedicated to the study of Ancient Runes and the art of Runology…” 

Enchanted by the words on the page, Hermione didn't notice the reddening of his cheeks due to her close proximity or the way he had to avert his eyes every few minutes.

‘Bloody hell, what’s wrong with me. I’m gonna get less work done now and Hermione is gonna think I’m a right git.’ Harry thought as he swallowed his nerves back. ‘It’s just Hermione, same old Hermione…. Who loves books, and school work and anything that even remotely sounds like some type of work would be required. And… who has the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen….’ 

While Hermione might have been oblivious to poor Harry’s internal musings the moment wasn’t lost to the eyes of their newest teacher, Professor Fae. Who had been studying the room as she tapped her quill softly against her desk in thought. 

She always liked to assign silent readings to her students on her first day of classes because it gave her the time that she desperately needed to catch up on the paperwork that she somehow always managed to be behind on at the beginning of every term. 

Today however she just couldn’t bring herself to center and focus on her back-work. Her oversized witches hat that was always tipped half-hazardously to one side, supported only by her red-blond hair that had been rapidly pulled up in bunches and secured into a bushel of tangles that mocked, and toyed with the idea of being a bun. Square black frames were perched atop a button nose, shielding hazel eyes behind a glare of light. 

She, Aphrodisia Fae, was the youngest of the professors here at hogwarts; having been hired shortly after Severus Snape. Typically she had the best will power of any young professor to go about doing her work regardless of the distractions that were present at the time. Today though she couldn’t fight the temptation of analyzing the room, and watching these two interact: she understood why. 

Aphrodisia was particularly fond of playing matchmaker for witches and wizards alike. A habit she had developed a taste for in her teenage-years, when she herself had been a student at hogwarts. She prided herself on the fact that there wasn’t a romantic whim or notion that she couldn’t spot; with her eyes glued to the young green eyed boy, as he flounder over his bushy haired friend, she could see a thick deep red thread winding its way round the pair.

After her first successful match when she was a fifth year and becoming an animagi in her sixth year: under the guidance of her seventh year friends. Having concluded with her taking the form of a Hippogriff, she discovered that she had developed the ability to see colorful phantom-like threads that formed connections between people. 

Threads of fate. 

Is what they were called, this she discovered only after months of research. Apparently it was an innate ability that hippogriffs possessed: a thermal like vision, that instead of being sensitive to body-heat showed the energies and colors of emotions. An ability she later learned was hereditary, and that certain witches and wizards who had close family-like ties to hippogriffs had been gifted the ability several centuries ago. After spending some time with muggles she discovered that some generational squibs also possessed the ability to see these colors. Though the muggle term for it was reading auras, that in no way truly tied to the magical counterparts. Of which she was able to discern between the mystical description of projected color about a being, and the defined threads that always lead to another living being. Another few years of study and she learned that the different colors and thicknesses of the stings varied depending on the type and strength of the connection. 

Truthfully, it had all been a rather tedious task, of which she regrettably found the most assistance in understanding this from Professor Tawney, who was only slightly more bearable in her younger years. 

Glancing down at her attendance list once more she tapped at the name Harry James Potter. How wondrous it was to have him as a student in her class. Not because he was the boy who lived, but because he was the only child of none other than her first meddling-match. The only current member in the second generation of her dear friends: the marauders. 

She was thrilled that due to her position here at Hogwarts she now had a front row seat to watch the relationship between these two develop. 

A brilliant smile graced her lips as she watched their red ribbon-like thread dance around the pair as if it was already anxious for them to grow closer. This bond between them was stronger than anything Aphrodisia had ever seen before, and they were only children. With their connection being this strong already she could only imagine what they had the potential of becoming, certain that it was only a matter of time before their friendship grew into something more.

‘I’ll have to tell Remus.’ She thought, as her eyes glew with a glimmer of something mischievous. ‘It’s so nice to have a friend back in Hogwarts. Now I have someone to fangirl over my favorite student couples with.’ 

~

Two mini-blowouts between Ron and Draco in divinations later, and after a good hour of Harry fidgeting in Ancient Runes, the trio was off to lunch. Having met up in the corridor along the way, they had only been slightly delayed when Hermione had insisted that she needed to head off to the restroom and that they need not wait up for her.

“I’ll catch up! I’m certain it won't take long.” She had shouted as she scurried away from the two young boys. Harry with much more reluctance than Ron had turned back towards their destination only after Hermione had disappeared from sight. The urge to follow her sank into his stomach refusing to be deterred until her bushy brown locks came floating down the hall back to his side once more. 

He was so pleased to have her back by his side that he momentarily neglected to notice that she had come from a direction that was ahead of them and not behind as the loo had been originally. It was a detail that he would realize hours later as he laid in the comfort of his bed and replayed the scene in his head as he wondered once more over his confusingly new feelings. 

But that was hours later, and presently the trio had an overly heated redhead that was stuffing his mouth, and glowering at the Slytherin house table.That was a much more pressing concern than any lingering uncertainties. Or rather, more specifically Ron was staring at a particularly overly cheerful blonde haired pureblood, that was laughing obnoxiously as he boasted over stories of his latest bullying sprees.

Ron couldn't place it but something about that Malfoy git just pissed him off, and the fact that he now had to deal with him so often was making him go bonkers.

He scoffed much like Malfoy had at him during divinations, taking a rather large bite out of his chicken thigh. 

“Everything alright there mate?” Harry probed, his concern for their friend clear in his expression. 

“Oh yeah, splendid. I just got bloody well left alone in Divinations by you two and stuck having Malfoy as a table mate again.” Ron grumbled over a half chewed mouth of chicken. 

“Sorry Ron, I really did try to tell you that I was more interested in taking Ancient Runes than I was in Divinations.” Harry apologized as he offered the lad an awkward half smile. 

“Yeah, yeah I know. I just reckoned it was worth the easy A.” Ron said pausing to swallow his food. His eyes moving back towards the slytherin table where they promptly made eye contact with a certain platinum haired boy. Stormy skies, and sharpened steel clashed once more; Malfoy smirked, where Ron scoffed. “Now I know, it wasn’t” 

~

Making their way down to Hagrid's hut to meet up for their first Mythical Creatures class, which they happened to share with the Slytherin house, had Ron on a continued rampage over his Divinations class. Swearing up and down that Draco had lied to him and had thought that insisting there was a bit of the grim in his cup had been funny. While it had caused Professor Tawney's eyes to widen and spend the rest of the class hour fretting over her new favorite student. 

"You don't think that grim thing has anything to do with Sirius Black do you?" Ron quipped, leading that trio down the winding staircases.

"Oh, honestly Ron," Hermione cut in. "If you ask me Divinations is a very wooly discipline," she paused making her way forward with Harry till she was in front of a now stunned looking Ron, who was baffled by the thought of Hermione actually being in Divinations with him,when he was sure he had looked all around the room for a friendly face. He couldn’t imagine how he had missed her, but somehow he did and she had left him to be partners with Malfoy. 

‘Bloody brilliant. At least now I know I can sit with her next time.’ 

"Now Ancient Runes, that's a fascinating subject. Right Harry?" She finished proudly clutching at her book.

"Ancient Runes? Exactly how many classes are you taking this year?" Ron inquired bewilderedly. 

"A fair few… I got it all sorted out with Professor McGonagall before the sorting feast. Harry you remember, when she said she needed to speak with me on something don't you?" Hermione asked, bumping into him softly as to get his attention.

"What? Oh- Oh yeah, it was when McGonagall stopped us both I think." Harry supplied, before continuing on the trail.  
"Hang on, how is that possible? Ancient Runes is at the same time as Divinations. You'd have to be in two classes at once." Ron questioned once more.

"Don't be silly Ronald, how could anyone possibly be in two classes at once," Hermione answered almost on autopilot, as she sped up to move ahead of the two boys. Prancing down the steps she mocked Professor Teawany beckoning over her shoulder humorously.

"Broaden your minds! Use your inner eye to see the future!”

Distracted Harry mistepped and his foot slipped off the edge of one of the small stone steps that lead down towards Hagrid's Hut. If it hadn't been for Ron who had grabbed him as he fell forward, steadying him again, Harry was certain he would’ve rode his rear-end down the stairs the rest of the way. 

“Are you good mate?” Ron echoed Harry’s concern from earlier as he kept his hand on his shoulder making sure he wouldn’t fall again. 

“Yeah, thanks for that.” Harry replied awkwardly. 

“ It’s not like you to be clumsy. Is something up?” Ron inquired while looking back over his shoulder to the offending step.

“Nothing, I must have stepped on a pebble or something.” Harry stated taking a few steps forward, his eyes once more falling on the retreating form of Hermione. “Say have you noticed anything different about Hermione lately?” 

“You mean other than the fact that she’s been acting a little flakey, and overly suspicious lately?” Ron inquired; glancing behind them to the step where Harry had slipped. He couldn’t find any loose stones or small pebbles that could’ve caused his friend to slip like he said. 

“Yeah, I mean other than that. Like… I don’t know… what about her appearance?” 

“Mmm nope, I can’t say that I have. Hermione is just Hermione, like she always has been.” Ron stated, catching up to Harry. “Why do you ask?” 

“No real reason.” Harry replied hastily. “ I’ve just been noticing stuff about her lately, and I guess I wanted to know if you had too.” 

“Noticing stuff? Like what, that she’s still a know-it-all?” Ron joked. Elowbing Harry’s side in good fun. 

“No, I still think she’s brilliant. It’s amazing the way she just knows things. But something about her lately just seems different.” 

“What do you like her or something?” Ron laughed at his own joke, already certain that Harry like him only saw Hermione as a friend. As he moved forward though he missed the pause in Harry’s step, a hesitation that was just as unusual for the dark haired boy as his clumsy slip was earlier. 

‘Do I like her?’ Harry thought to himself as his heart pounded in his chest, his stomach did a quick flip and his cheeks flushed slightly. ‘Is that what this is… I… I couldn’t possibly…” 

“There you are!” Hermione called running back up to her friends, having noticed them missing from behind her just moments prior. “What took you so long?” 

“Well while you were running off, Harry nearly…” 

“Nothing, we were just talking... was all.” Harry interrupted suddenly not wanting Hermione to know that he had almost slipped. ‘What a right bloody idiot she would see me as if she knew. How many times had we traveled these steps even in the darkness of night, and I have never slipped before.’ No Harry couldn’t possibly let her know, she was far too perceptive and she enjoyed the pursuit of new inquisitions much too thoroughly for him to allow that. ‘I can’t have her finding out that I had been so distracted by the view of her bounding down the stairs that I missed a step. No I was entirely too enraptured by the view of her bouncing rump to take the chance that she might find out.’

“Alright then, well come on you two. Class is starting soon.” Hermione said, brushing off the awkwardness as she grabbed onto Harry’s arm, pulling him forward after her.   
Leaving Ron standing there watching them run the rest of the way, before slowly following after them.

‘How is it lately I'm always the one who’s left behind?’ Ron wondered to himself as he caught up once more with his friends, but he paused mid step as he watched them interacting. For a moment, he could’ve sworn that Harry was blushing. 

‘Does he like her?’

"That's it, Come on now. Come closer, and less talking if you don't mind." Hagrid began waving his arms about, in a large circular motion that started at his sides and made a grand sweeping gesture towards himself. 

"I've got a real treat for you today!" He stated proudly as he promptly placed his hands on his hips.

"It's a great lesson. Just follow me!" the half-giant continued leading the class into the woods. After a short walk and climbing over a broken down wall, something the half giant only had to step over. The class entered a small clearing as the sun shone through casting shadows across the ground the color of its rays making the gravel look more like a golden plain then part of the Hogwarts grounds.

"Right you lot, less chattering and go from a group over there." Hagrid pronounced while motioning to the side. "And open your books to page forty-nine!"

"AND exactly how are we supposed to do that?" Malfoy inquired pompously holding the monster book of monsters by the strap away from him. "The bloody thing attacks us as soon as you unclasp it."

"Well, you stroke the spine of course," Hagrid said off handily as he waved him off. Glaring at the giant man, Malfoy followed his instructions with a soft. "hmph." For his efforts.

While Neville Longbottom, having not heard the professor, simply unclasped his grumbling text and turned the book towards him; in an instant it attacked.

"Don't be such a wimp Longbottom." Malfoy supplied glancing back at his screams.

"Well, I think they're funny." Hermione piped in as Harry was looking closely at the spine of his book.

"Oh, yeah, terribly funny." Malfoy cut in moving towards the trio, his eyes mostly focused on Hermione but shooting to the side every so often towards Harry and Ron, in efforts to get a better look at him. 

"Really witty, god this place has gone to the dogs. Wait until my father hears that Dumbledore's got this oof teaching classes." He chuckled wickedly.

"Shut up Malfoy." Said Harry shaking off Ron's cationary hand and walking towards him menacingly.

"ooh," Malfoy and his lackeys sounded in mock terror. Reaching behind him, Draco dropped his bag into the hands of Goyle before walking towards Harry in the most intimidating way possible as he attempted to scare him. 

Before shrinking back plastering a look of pure fear on his face; as a perfectly evil idea hit him, and he pointed to the sky before mockingly shouting.

"D-dementor, Dementor!" Causing all the remaining students with their backs to that direction, to turn around in terror, only to see that there was nothing there. While he quickly motioned for Cab and Goyle to follow his lead, as a group they lifted the hoods of their robes and started emitting a low wooing sound, as they approached the trio once more. Wiggling their fingers about in a condescending way, being clear that they were making fun of Harry for fainting on the Train-ride over again. 

It only stopped when Hermione stepped between them and Harry defensively, grabbing and pulling at his opposite shoulder to lead him away from them, while making a face that was meant to mockingly say “very funny Malfoy.”

Quickly bringing Harry with her back to the front of the class, which had formed a large group just out of the sun's reach, as Hagrid came back into view with a bird-like, griffin looking four legged creature at his back, and a chain of dead ferrets hung around his neck. Ron remained at the back of the crowd staring at Malfoy, laughing with his friends. Until Neville walked by him, having finally figured out how to calm his monster book, which currently sat peacefully in his hand and looking entirely disheveled with his cloaked torn to shreds.

"Neville?” Ron questioned taking a good long look at him, the book in his hand, letting out a gentle pur, he continued. “You're supposed to stroke it." Ron shook his head at the boy as Neville set his book down on an abnormally sized rock. Nodding his head in agreement, making it clear that he figured it out.

With the clearing of his throat, Hagrid called for all of their attention introducing the thing he called Buckbeak.

"Buckbeak is a Hippogriff. The first thing you want to know about a Hippogriff is that they're very proud creatures. Very easily offended, and trust me when I tell you do not want to insult a Hippogriff, or it may just be the last thing you ever do." Hagrid paused looking about the class seriously, seconds later once he was sure that they had heard him loud and clear, he clapped his hands together joyfully and said.

"Now who'd like to come and say hello?" Turning his back to them so that he could admire his lovely pet. The entire class took this chance to move a step backwards, all except for Harry, who had also been admiring the beautiful creature.

When Hagrid turned around again, and only Harry was left standing where once the entire class had been; Hagrid believed that he had stepped forward as a volunteer.

"Well done Harry, Well done. " Hagrid waved him forward, inviting him to approach the winged beast. 

Harry looked around at all of his classmates who had backed away in fear, his eyes lingering on a blushing Hermione. Who had forgone grabbing at his robes and dragging him back in her haste. "Sorry Harry." She whispered. He just shook his head and smiled through his nerves. As he approached the hippogriff Hagrid gave him the proper instructions on how to go about greeting him. 

"That's it, step up and give him a nice bow…” Hagrid said as Harry lent forward at his waist, his curiosity keeping his eyes glued to the grunting beast. “Head down, Harry. Head down.” Hagrid said “Now wait and see if he bows back. If he does, you can go and touch him."

Harry’s nerves started to get the best of him and he fidgeted moving a little closer, he raised his head slightly so that he could see if Buckbeak would bow back. While Hagrid continued, "If not, well... we'll get to that later."

One sharp noise from Buckbeak as he assessed Harry's form, guided Hagrid to instruct him once more to bow down further, and keep his head down in hopes that it would appease the beast. Now that Harry was more so afraid that he would end up being maimed by him. He also backed off slightly, leaving the beast with plenty of room once more. 

It assessed him, before stepping forward with one hoof, bowing his head low in return. Hagrid cheered; proud of them both before instructing Harry to move forward and pet Buckbeak.

As he threw the Hippogriff another dead ferret as a reward, Harry stepped forward once more this time, reaching out his hand with his palm facing up so that Buckbeak knew for sure that he meant him no harm. The creature gave him a gentle nip of appreciation, and Harry heard Hermione gasped in either fear or wonder behind him. 

With the crunch of twigs and Hagrid's panicked warning to stay back, he knew that she had tried to run up to him, like all other times she found him in any kind of trouble. She always stood right by his side, so he wasn't surprised that she had been the one to try just that. Hippogriff be damned, she wasn't going to change anytime soon. Though the feathers of Buckbeak were soft and well maintained, it was the intelligence he found in the beast's eyes, that was awe inspiring to Harry. 

Drowning out the applause of his classmates, he felt as if Buckbeak was looking into his very heart. Then suddenly he was being lifted as two large hands gripped at him just under his arms, and set securely on top of him.

Hagrid gave him a good whack on his butt and they were off at a running start, into the sky while Hagrid went on to explain more about the beast.

"You see Hippogriffs are also known as a symbol of love in the Wizarding world. Mostly due to the fact that the only time they will let a pair of people ride them is when the connection between the two people is something strong like love. Now I know you’re all wondering how a Hippogriff can recognize when there is a bond between its riders. Well let me tell ya, it’s all in their eyes. Hippogriffs have very thin mostly transparent eyelids that when they blink bends the colors of the world around them into basic energy clouds. Hippogriffs are very intelligent creatures you see, and when they view the world through this film-like view they can read the energies of every living being around them. So to put it simply they can see the souls of people, and it is speculated that couples who have rode on the beasts together are usually nothing short of soul mates. Descended to stay together throughout this life and the next." Hagrid droned on as Hermione clutched her book closer to her chest unable to concentrate with Harry's joyous screams on the horizon.

Harry and Buckbeak soared through the sky, over the black lake where Buckbeak lowered to scrape his claw along the water's surface, allowing Harry the time he needed to adjust on the hipogriffs back so that he could sit up and let the breeze from the air they were skimming through to cradle him completely. ‘It’s rather enjoyable. Much like being on a broom, you don’t have to concentrate as much. I’ve always loved this feeling of absolute freedom, you don’t have to worry about anything way up here in the sky. It’s why I adore quidditch so much. ‘ Harry thought to himself as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. Then suddenly Buckbeak took off towards the Quidditch pitch almost as if he had sensed the pull from his riders' thoughts leading them there. 

When they landed in the center of the ring, Harry looked around perplexed, while Buckbeak began pawing at the ground kicking up grass and dirt before unearthing a rock that seemed to have embedded itself into the ground. Picking it up in its beak, he turned his head towards Harry and flapped his wings gently jostling him.

"What you got there Buckbeak?” He inquired, patting his neck gently and offering him his other hand palm up so the beast could place his treasure inside of it.

Glancing at the stone in his palm he took note of the fact that it wasn't just any stone as he rubbed away a piece of the dirt it was caked in with his thumb. It was a rare gem, red stone spotted with golden flecks along the outside but it was chipped, a chunk of it was missing on the bottom. The gem itself was very pretty, but there was something about it that he just didn’t like; he guessed that it had to do with the imperfections of the stone that really put him off. Even still he placed the stone into his pocket as they took off into the sky once more. 

With a whistle, Hagrid called them back, the moment Harry was once more safely on the ground he was surrounded by all of his classmates, but Hermione pushed through them all and gave him a hug that nearly knocked him flat. Having been fearful for his safety as she always did since the moment he saved her from that troll on Halloween their first year here. She had let her instincts to be as close to him as possible guide her in spite of all the onlookers present. 

They were only broken apart by an angry Malfoy, as he stomped his way up to the giant creature in determination.

"Yes you're not dangerous at all are you, you great ugly brute." Malfoy demanded as he got closer, much too close. Still in a very mincing stance towards Buckbeak, the creature reacted in kind, offended by his sudden presence. Rising on its hind legs, he struck out with a claw. 

Tearing through his clothes and tossing Malfoy to the ground. Quickly Hagrid moved in front of him: waving his large arms about and calling his name trying to get the beast's attention.   
Buckbeak finally calmed and turned away from them only when Hagrid offered another tasty treat to appease him. While Malfoy whined in pain, clutching at his grazed arm.  
Ron moved forward then, approaching him, anxious to get a look at the great Malfoy's fallen moment.

"Hagrid he has to be taken to Madam Pomfrey!" Hermione quipped.

"Right, I'm the teacher, I'll do it." He said as he lifted Malfoy from the ground and dismissed the rest of the students for the day. Asking only that Harry would lead Buckbeak back to his hut and tie him up by the pumpkins.

"Ah, you're gonna regret this, you and your bloody chicken!" Malfoy croaked angrily.

And Buckbeak nipped at Harry’s palm gently having accepted him as someone worthy. He had begun nudging him and digging his beak into Harry’s pocket when he shifted quickly alert once more. Harry looked away from the birdlike beast and saw Hermione approaching them. 

When she started to bow it was already too late as Buckbeak was next to her, Harry panicking that Buckbeak might hurt her as well rushed to shield her. Only to find the Hippogriff pushing the stone from the quidditch pitch ground, that was currently clutched in his beak once more into her, squawking insistently. Much like Harry, Hermione reached out her hand accepting the stone politely. But the red gem took her breath away when she gazed upon it. The chipped chunk of it missing on the bottom didn’t cause her distaste like it did Harry, instead she appreciated the way it allowed her to see clearly into the different ringlets of color inside. She adored the fact that it looked rough around the edges, and how it was guarded by grime but once you showed a little attention to it, you could see that it was hiding one of the most beautiful secrets inside.

"Thank you, Buckbeak. It's gorgeous." Hermione whispered petting his beak gently as they led him back to Hagrid's hut. Completely forgetting Ron, who was still trying to get it together after his rather long laughing fit, that Malfoy's last comment had sent him into.

Still muttering happily. "…And your bloody chicken." 

Noticing that he had been left alone again, Ron quickly collected himself and his things before he hastily made his way back towards the castle. ‘If I’m quick I can grab another snack before going to Defense against the dark arts.’ He thought he'd meet the other two there, sure that they had only left him behind again because they too had been in a hurry to get back. Definitely not because they had been so wrapped up in each other that they had neglected to even notice his presence. 

~

In their next classroom, they were greeted by the sight of a wardrobe of sorts that was rattling around like something was trapped inside of it.

Harry, having wandered up towards the wooden box led purely by his curiosity, had tried to get a closer look at it. But just as he was about to touch the edge, Professor Lupin stepped out of his office.

"Intriguing isn't it?" He called approaching the class, causing Harry to move back and once he was close enough Hermione grabbed his hand pulling him further away when the case gave a rather nasty bump, fearful that the thing inside might escape. 

Both looked down at their intertwined hands and blushed profusely, stepping away from each other, looking off to the side. Ron not having been oblivious to this gave Hermione a once over. Feeling slightly upset over how close his two friends had begun to appear.

‘What’s so bloody interesting about her that all of Harry’s attention is being devoted to her? What does he mean that something is different about her? I just don't get it. ’ 

"Would anyone like to venture a guess as to what is inside?" Professor Lupin questioned, walking about his huddled students oblivious to the trio's internal struggles. 

"It's a Bogart Box." A ravenclaw girl stated, while puffing her chest out clearly proud of her knowledge.

"Very good Miss. Patil. Now can anyone tell me what a Bogart looks like?"

"Nobody knows, Bogart's are shape shifters. They take the shape of the thing that a person fears most. That's what makes them so-" Hermione was cut off by Professor Lupin having heard the answer to his question that he had wanted.

"So terrifying yes. Luckily," He continued approaching the Bogart box. " A very simple charm exists to repel a Bogart." He stated, turning around to face the class.

"Let's practice it now... Ah without wands, please. Now after me, Ridiculous."

A resounding Ridiculous sounded out as every student repeated the charm, like requested.

"Very good," He said "A little louder and very clear. Listen, Ridiculous." Once again Ridiculous sounded out from everyone in the class, then a pissed off Malfoy waltzed into the class, going to stand aside his lackeys once more.

"This class is ridiculous." He mumbled his arm in a sling, looking utterly laughable himself.

"Very good, well so much for the easy part. You see the incantation alone is not enough, what really finishes a Bogart is laughter." He stated, clearly meeting the eyes of everyone he could.

"So you will need to force it to assume a shape you find truly amusing. Let me explain…" Looking around the room he noticed Neville Longbottom and called him forward.

"Would you be so kind? Come along don't be shy, come on then." Professor Lupin smiled comfortingly "Well then Neville, what frightens you most of all?"  
"P-professor S-snape." Neville stuttered out quietly  
"Sorry, what was that?" Professor Lupin inquired.  
"Professor Snape," Neville said louder, using some of his Gryffindor courage to stand up a little taller. While all the others in the room laughed at how true it was, because Professor Snape was terrifying. Even Professor Lupin gave a few chuckles as memories rushed to the front of his mind.  
"Ah yes, he frightens all," Lupin said as he fought off his mirth.  
"Now I believe you live with your grandmother. " He pressed,  
"Yes but I don't particularly want that Bogart to turn into her either," Neville replied frightened.  
"No, no it won't. I want you to picture her clothes, very clearly in your mind. Only her Clothes! " He insisted.

"She carries a red handbag-" Professor Lupin cut Neville off.  
"We don't need to hear it, Neville, as long as you see it, we'll see it. Now when I open that wardrobe here's what I want you to do." He then whispered into Neville's ear the rest of his instructions, so that it would be a surprise for the rest of the class.

With a nod from Longbottom, Lupin moved to unlock the box, only checking once more with the boy to be sure he was ready for this. Waving his hand in front of the locks the cupboard stopped shaking as four pale fingers wrapped around the edge of the opening door. 

The form of Professor Snape stepped out of the dark, and looked around, before heading straight towards Neville.

"Ridiculous." Called Neville waving his wand at the Bogart. Then suddenly the Bogart shrunk back away from him and its clothes were changed to that of his Grandmothers. The entire class erupted with laughter at the sight of Snape in a green jumper, clutching at a red handbag while an enormous hat sat atop his head.

It was a sight that would be humorous to anyone.

Then everyone was lining up to get their shot at the Bogart and were successfully beating them each resulting in a course of laughter more humorous than the last.   
But as the line lessened and Harry got back up to the front, the entire room went quiet. Everyone was curious to see what frightened Harry most of all, leaving the class in a still and eire silence as the Bogart began to whirl about forming its new shape. 

When Bogart took the shape of a dementor, the entire room gasped in horror; while Harry tried and tried, no matter how many times he called it out. The incantation simply wasn't working. Till finally, professor Lupin threw himself in front of the boy and waited for the Bogart to take the shape of the moon. The only thing he fears the most, before using the incantation to turn it into a deflating balloon and sending it right back into the box it came out of.

"Right then, everyone that will be all for today. Well done, now be sure to read up till chapter three in your books and I'll see you all next week." With that, he walked into his office and everyone was excused to dinner.

~

"Well that was eventful wasn't it?" Hermione said gripping at the pocket where her stone sat snuggly. She was feeling restless and since the first time she had accepted it from Buckbeak the weight of it in her hand had instantly calmed her. Caressing the stone in moments of great stress was quickly becoming something of a habit for her. 

"That's for sure," Ron answered between bites of his food, pieces of crumbs flying from his mouth. "Anyway you wanna go searching for that bloody stone or whatever that Professor McGonagall wants us to have before next class?" Ron inquired of his two best friends, already bored with the idea of digging through the dirt to try and find a rock that he fancied more than others.

"Oh, I already have my stone, Ron." Harry supplied as he pulled out the very item that he had kept close to his person since it had rolled gently into his palm in the library. The memory of the incident quickly pushing itself to the forefront of his mind. 

The shocked expression on Hermione's face that had gradually faded into a definitive blush, was one of many reasons he kept the stone so near. 

"Okay then," Ron paused, looking at the fiery but otherwise clear looking gem and though it was a very attractive looking thing. As he reached out to take the stone from Harry he found that when he held it, something about it felt off. Instinctually telling him that this wasn't something he would've picked. Quickly as if the stone was burning him he decided on handing the stone back, being extra careful to set it down gently into Harry's open palm.

"How about you Hermione?" Ron looked to her, hoping and praying that for once she two had procrastinated on this. But the off chance that she had, at least in favor of doing some of the other homework that had been assigned to them. Like the paper from Snape on the ingredients needed, all of which looked and sounded far too much like a common love potion, with a few rarer bits thrown in during the unnecessarily complex brewing process. Perhaps even the reading that Professor Flitwick had assigned them, to be sure they knew exactly how to cast the incantation.

"I'm sorry Ronald," Hermione started as she too produced a rather large looking rock, and held it out before him.

"But Buckbeak actually helped me find this earlier today." She finished looking down in guilt, knowing that he might not be happy at having to search alone. But she brightened quickly as a particularly clever idea came to her.

"But just because Harry and I already have our items doesn't mean we can't help you find yours! Right Harry?" Even Ron was happy with this, the idea that they all would be looking for his stone would mean that he could look through more stones then he would have had they all been searching for their own. With Harry agreeing, and the trio all hurriedly finishing up their dinners, Ron couldn't have been more pleased to be leaving dinner early for once in his life.

Making their way all about Hogwarts, and being sure to leave no stone unassessed. The trio eventually made their way to the black lake,where they continued to scour for hours all supplying their own rock as options and each one just not seeming right to him, being quickly rejected. Ron was about to give up and just pick a random one, certain that he wouldn't be finding his anytime soon.  
Exhausted Ron plopped down onto the sand looking out to the waves as the wind blew the dark lake waters about much like the sea, and he thought that perhaps this simply wasn't for him, what if he wasn't meant to find the stone that felt just right, it would make bloody sense, everything else was always against him. Like being the youngest son of 8, and feeling like he was least loved by his family, all of which had so wanted a daughter, or sister only to get one a year later. 

Ron had been practically raised by his brothers, and felt altogether ignored by his parents who’d doted upon his sister since her first breath. Feeling the contempt of being yet another boy from his mother his whole life he wasn't certain that a female could ever even love him. 

Hardly believing that he would even know how to properly love a girl in return. Shaking his head trying his best to remove all his doubts he was planning on just turning in for the night and continuing on tomorrow, but a particularly shiny object caught the red heads attention, making his way over to pluck it from the sands of the lakeshore. It was a black gemstone that had large flecks of green, small parts of silver, and equally large parts of a rusty orange almost red, looking color yet when turned the right way there were also small spots of blue. It was about the size of the palm of his hand and was smooth to the touch. Walking over to Harry, and Hermione who were still collecting interesting stones. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the beauty of it.

"Guy's I think we can stop now," Ron said quietly, catching their attention before showing them his prize.

"That's a Black Opal Ronald!" Hermione gasped in wonder, it really was a beautifully complex-looking thing.

"Congratulations Ron that's a beaut," Harry said, clapping him on the back. The three best friends chatted happily while making their way back into the castle.

All excited for their next Transfiguration class, they cradled their precious gems closer pondering over them quietly in their respective beds that night.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five:  
Hermione couldn't sleep. Oh she had tried; well and truly.   
She’d spent the last hour and a half staring at the top of her four poster bed, curtains drawn tight and Crookshanks curled up at her feet. But she found herself feeling jittery, and much too excited for morning to come. Tomorrow felt important, similarly to how the day before the start of every term.   
Her eyes regularly traveled to the side of her bed where her nightstand housed her newly washed and all but polished crystal. It felt like it was calling out to her, begging to be held.   
She had hoped that her regular study schedule would’ve been enough to tire out her restless mind. Usually by the time she’d twisted the time-turner to return to her bed; she’d be crawling into bed eyes already half closed and sleep quickly claiming her.   
Utterly exhausted, having pushed herself well past her limits, she grumbled over the hours of sleep she was losing. But she had little choice in the matter, if she turned the time-turn a half click more then she'd have to avoid more than just herself as she navigated through the common room. It was only three weeks into the new school year but she was already worn down and tired of trying to explain how she can often be found in more than one place at a time.   
She understood the consequences, but when the majority of the wizarding world knows about the existence of them except, perhaps, the younger students here at hogwarts. It really boggled her mind that so many seemed to be bewildered by her new found “ability.”   
“What business is it of thiers anyway ?”  
“It really isn’t, but people generally don’t care whether it's their business or not.” Came Crookshanks quick witted reply.   
“If my parents can respect my privacy and intellect then others should as well.”   
“In a perfect world they would, but sadly this world is anything but. It’s run by humans, and people are the most dangerous creatures in the world.Prone to unnecessary cruelty when slighted, and whose words and actions can cut as deep as any weapon. ”   
There was a shuffle and a yawn that came from the direction of Lavender's bed, putting an abrupt end to the conversation between Familiar and Witch. Then there was silence, and a soft snore as her dorm mate fell back to sleep. Hermione relaxed and released the breath she had been holding.   
“Crookshanks?”   
“Yes?”   
“Earlier, you spoke as if you knew personally from past experiences...”   
“Perhaps, but that's a conversation for another time. There are things in this world that even you, are still too young to understand. For now it’s time you go to bed, you have classes in the morning. You wouldn’t want to over sleep like that red haired lad. ”  
“I guess you’re right, but this conversation is not over. Goodnight Crookshanks.”  
“Goodnight, little one.”  
~  
"It seems that everyone present has completed their assignment." Professor McGonagall exclaimed, peering around the room at the various different looking rocks, some she could recognize as precious gems others were simply smoothed over bedrock in all different shapes, sizes, and color. The color complexities ranging from the most simplistic solids to shifting multicolor swirls.  
‘How unusual.’ She thought.   
Crossing her hands behind her back, and glancing once more about the room. Taking a keen interest in the fact that Weasley was in a glaring contest with the Malfoy boy, while Potter looked particularly nervous next to Granger.   
When she took a closer look at her favorite students she noticed a slight reddening to the cheeks of both children, and Granger looked to be trying harder than usual to keep her eyes focused on the front of the class. They kept wandering away from the writing on the board which broke down the day's assignment and lesson, to a certain green eyed boy to her right. Their gems seemed to shine brightly, and the way that young Grangers sat on the table it looked almost as if her gem was reaching out for Mr. Potters.   
‘Perhaps I will take up Aphrodisia’s bet after all.’  
"Those Gems, jewels, and stones you're all so tightly clutching. As I explained previously aren't simply just that, you see, they are linked quite closely to your soulmate. Specifically they are called Soul Stones; and they were here on school grounds for you to find solely due to your soulmates presence here. A unanimously supported fact by the wizarding community is that Soul stones follow their vessels, wherever you are, wherever you go, the stone then follows. Glimmering into life as a physical manifestation of your soul produced singularly by magic.  
During Merlin's era finding and utilizing these gems were a part of regular practice for the magical community. It was viewed as a right of passage for young witches and wizards; some social standings hinged entirely on the rarity of their presented gems. Furthermore Soul Stones were commonly used in arranged marriages due to their magical abilities to accurately predict one's soulmate.   
If two stones were found compatible then a contractual marriage could take place within a year; Soul-bound couples' magic, being one in the same, leads to a greater chance of producing a strong heir. Thus growing the magical capacity of the familyline and by proxy granting said families more political power. In fact the majority of pureblood family lineages can be directly traced back to at least one such match.”  
Draco and his cronies smirked at this, turning their noses up in pride.  
“ The magical community also saw a population boom in this era as compatible magics also lowered the likelihood of squibs, still borns, and miscarriages. Then around the time of the 18th century Goblin Rebellion; Lords and Ladies began to marry their daughters off in dowries to increase their political standings, and forge powerful alliances for protection. As a result the community moved away from the general practice of soul-bonding.”  
Hermione Granger looked at her gemstone in wonder, who would've thought that something like this could exist. In all her light readings she had never even heard of it.  
It was a stunningly simple concept. A physical manifestation of the human soul in the open world, it could even be something as mundane as a rock. Meaning that somewhere someone was holding her soul in his or her hands, much like she was holding theirs. She glanced again at the gem that sat in front of Harry where it seemed to be pulsing in time with her heart beat.  
‘I must be imagining things.’   
“In a few moments I will have you all attempt your first casting, but before then let me remind you, these stones will only take the shape that it is meant to. You are simply utilizing your magic to create a pathway which will allow the object to transform.” With a lengthy pause, which McGonagall used to catch wet her pallet with the glass of water she had sitting on her desk. All the students started to wonder at what form their stones might take.   
What kind of trinket would it become?  
“First clear your minds of all trivial thoughts and focus on the sound of your own breathing. Once you have, I want you all to take up your wands, tap the top of your stones then recite D'une flamme jumelle; while you move your wand in an anticlockwise circle about your objects. To finish, say mes prennent formé. Don't be discouraged should nothing happen, this incantation is very complex and can be corrupted easily should your focus slip for even a moment."   
"Professor, exactly how are we supposed to know when our heads are clear?" Ron inquired, scratching at the back of his head when her piercing eyes centered on him.  
"I trust, Mr. Weasley, that you should be able to tell when you don't have any thoughts passing through your mind."   
"Shouldn't be too difficult for him, the prat doesn't have any thoughts to begin with," Malfoy said with a sneer, his goons Crab, and Goyle laughing coarsely at Ron’s expense. His retort was on the tip of his tongue; mouth open to let it fly, as Malfoy's head was sent jutting forward with an abrupt thwack.   
Ron's jaw dropped further, surprised upon realizing that Malfoy had been whacked upside the head by none other than Daphne Greengrass. Draco, having recovered from the initial shock of being hit quickly turned to berate her, and to his bewilderment, Malfoy seemed to stutter under Daphne’s glare. Entitlements fell to ruin, frozen by her icy ire.   
The thirteen year old bully pouted as she scolded him quietly, before promptly returning her attention back to Professor McGonagall: who had already resumed her lecture, oblivious to the misbehavior of her students.   
Disbelief sunk its claws deep into his soul as Draco huffed indignantly, sent one last glare in his direction, before ending whatever it was that kept them both locked in a staring contest, with a sudden jerk of his head. His glare went unanswered for the remainder of the class as Malfoy never turned his gaze away from the professor, or his stone again.  
Though Ron was sure he should have been thankful to Daphne: who had nodded to him kindly once she was certain that Malfoy was going to follow her instructions. Yet something about the moment hadn't sat well with him. So instead he found himself simmering with rage and an emotion he had felt all too often when he was younger: Envy.  
‘Malfoy doesn't listen to anyone, but he just listened to her. What’s so special about her? UGH why do I even care?’   
Giving a huff of his own, Ron crossed his arms in front of him. Unaware that his mouth had set into a frown and his glare turned on the ground, as he tried in vain to think about anything else, or even better nothing at all.   
The scene replayed on a continuous loop in his head until the bells tolled loudly in the background, and he realized that he hadn’t attempted the incantation even once.   
“Bloody hell,” He whispered, his eyes following Malfoy out the room as he all but ran away from Daphne, who had turned on him the moment class was dismissed.   
Lunch was next, but for once Ron wasn’t hungry. So he slowly gathered his things as Harry and Hermione waited for him by the door. They shared a concerned look as he trudged towards them, eyes still locked in a staring contest with the floorboards.   
"Cheer up Ron, honestly," Hermione said as she adjusted her bag, which sat heavily on her shoulder. "I don't see why you're not happier with Malfoy being put in his place, I for one am ecstatic that he was and by a girl no less!"  
"I know, it's just that I've never seen that bloody git listen to anyone. So I’m just shocked I guess, and maybe a little jealous too. I wish I had the same power to shut him up, as it seems he made it his personal mission to get on my nerves every chance he gets. Which is entirely too often for my own liking.   
Did you know he told Professor Snape that his arm was in so much agony from that stupid scratch, that he couldn't possibly cut up his half of our potions ingredients! And of course Snape believed him!" Ron steamed, stomping his feet harshly on the stone floor.   
“Professor Snape,” Hermione quipped on instinct, her rebuttal falling on deafears, Ron was lost in his memories; following them automatically as they set off to lunch, but it was clear his mind wasn’t there.   
The thought of Malfoy's smug smirk, as Ron chopped slowly at their gardenia roots, still grated on his nerves. He had already cost Gryffindor 20 points for chopping them too hap-hazardously before. He had spent the entirety of the remaining potions hour muttering to himself quietly, knowing all too well that Malfoy would call Snape over at the slightest of complications.   
When the trio arrived in the Great Hall for lunch Ron’s head immediately looked to the slytherin table, his eyes restlessly pursuing through countless bodies all dressed in silver and green, until platinum blonde hair came into view.   
For a moment his spirits lifted, til Daphne sat down beside him.   
“Ugh,” Ron scowled, turning away from the scene.   
~  
They had an hour and a half for lunch, and Ron spent the majority of that time pushing the food around on his plate. His gaze dancing back and forth between his fork and looking across the dining hall to glare at Draco and his friends.  
‘Why is he bloody sitting with her? Since when had they become so close? I thought it was always Pansy Parkins that followed him around like a love sick puppy. When the hell did they become friends?’   
"Ron you sure you're okay? You've hardly eatin’ anythin’," Harry, for the better part of lunch had been keeping a close eye on his redheaded friend. Something he realized he had been doing much less than he should for the past few weeks. He cared about Ron quite a lot, after all the Weasleys were the first family he'd ever felt at home with; and Ron being his best mate played a vastly large role in that feeling.   
“Yeah, I’m just not hungry that's all.”   
“You? Not hungry? That’s like a fish saying it doesn't feel like swimming.”   
“Ha-ha, very funny Harry. I can have no appetite sometimes too y’know.”  
“Yeah, it's just those times are usually tied to the Chudley Cannons being knocked out of the running for the quidditch cup. The new season hasn’t even started yet… so that can’t be it.”   
“I’m just not hungry mate, leave it alone will ya?”  
“Sorry mate…”   
For the remainder of lunch there was an awkward tension between them, unperturbed by Hermione's attempts to break it.  
As the trio made their way down the corridors toward their last class of the day a loud crashing sound came from behind Harry, as Hermione gave a shout.  
A seam had split on her bag, though Harry wasn't surprised having noticed that she had crammed it with at least a dozen large and heavy books since the beginning of the term.  
"Geez Hermione! Why are you carrying all these around with you?" Ron asked her, having been startled from his musings by the loud sound.  
"You know how many subjects I'm taking," Hermione countered breathlessly. "Couldn't hold these for me, could you Harry?"  
"Uh sure-" Harry was juggling the books Hermione had all but thrown at him in her haste, as she muttered about being late for charms. While Ron was grabbing at a few spare ones that Harry hadn't caught.  
"But you haven't got any of these subjects today. Only Charms is left this afternoon." Ron said looking at the covers of subjects he couldn't even remember hearing about.  
"Oh, yes," Hermione vaguely waved him off, as she cast a sewing spell on her bag, before cramming all of the books back in just the same. Turning around with a beaming smile, she grabbed a hold of Harry's hand as if by instinct and dragged him off down the hall only to be halted once more. Having just narrowly avoided running into Professor Lupin, who was facing down a glowering Peeves. Though Harry, having not expected the sudden start, much less the quick stop skidded right into Hermione sending them both tumbling to the floor.  
"Oh, hello Harry." Professor Lupin said looking down at the pair, and if he noticed the blushing faces of the two or the way both avoided eye contact with the other, as they mumbled their apologies, and said their hello's. He didn't say a thing, opting to continue his conversation with a distinctly frustrated ghost.  
"Loony, loopy, Lupin," Peeves sang circling around the Professor dancing around recklessly. "Loony, loopy, Lupin, loony, loopy, Lupin-"  
This shocked the two, because as rude and unmanageable as he almost always was, peeves usually showed respect to the teachers, or at least what could be considered respectful for him.   
Where most would’ve been furious, Professor Lupin was smiling. It was such an eerie smile that a shiver rushed down both their spines. They quickly shared a glance making a silent agreement to never get on Professor Lupin's bad side, lest they be on the receiving end of that wicked calm.  
"I'd take that gum out of that keyhole if I were you, Peeves," He stated serenely. "Mr. Filch won’t be able to get into his brooms." Mr. Filch the caretaker of the halls at Hogwarts, who had an equally bad temperament as Professor Snape. Was a failed wizard who's favorite pastime was the war he waged against the students, and indeed Peeves the ghost.  
Peeves however continued on, acting as if he hadn't heard a word that the professor had said. Only pausing in his song to blow raspberries in the Professor's face.  
Lupin sighed while pulling out his wand. "This is a useful spell you two," he began glancing over his shoulder. "So watch closely."  
Raising his wand up to shoulder height, and pointing it at Peeves, he said.  
"Waddiwasi" The chewing gum that had previously been stuck in the cupboard's keyhole, flew like a bullet at Peeves and straight up his left nostril. Who then whirled up and zoomed away, cursing.  
"That was bloody brilliant!" Ronald said between puffs of air. Having finally caught up to the two, just as the chewing gum had been sent flying.   
It had taken Ron a moment to realize what had just happened, and by the time he had wrapped his head around the fact that he was now standing alone in the corridor, he had taken off as fast as he could after them. Though it turns out that all that chasing he used to do of his siblings at home hadn't much prepared him for having to chase after his friends at school.  
"Right then," Professor Lupin said, glancing at the time. "You three better hurry, or you'll be late."  
With a gasp the trio was back on the run, none of them wanting to be late for charms class, even though Professor Flitwick was a small dwarf of a man, he was known to have an equally short temper. Seemed most of the professors at Hogwarts had the same tendency to strike fear into the hearts of many when provoked.   
~   
"Good Afternoon class!" Shouted the small professor as he stood in the middle of the classroom, looking about happily.  
"I'm excited to see that all of you have your stones! Oh, and what wondrous things they are, now I'm sure that Professor McGonagall told you all about them and their qualities?" Flitwick said as he clapped his hands together before him.  
The whole class answered with some form of agreement, as he continued on.  
"Right, then let us get on to today's lesson! Today you'll be learning the disillusionment charm, which we will then be casting on your stones! This will render them nearly invisible to all else but you...”   
"Professor," Pansy said, "If we're the only ones who can see the thing after we cast this charm, then how will we know when we find our soulmate?"  
"Ah, Miss. Parkinson, that is a good question. You see, though this charm does cause it to become invisible to most, the person whose soul stone it is, will still be able to see it. I'm certain McGonagall explained to you all, the only people who can find these stones, with the exception of a hippogriff. Yes?" As the students around nodded he continued on.  
"So you see, no matter what is done to the stone. Your soulmate will always be able to see it, for them the disillusionment charm will work more like a notice-me-not glamor charm which compels the seer to not look directly at the spelled object."   
Right then, wands at the ready children." He said pulling out his wand in example, having placed an item of his own down on the table, he demonstrated the hand motion once more.  
"Remember to flick your wand at your stone, willing it to be erased from this spectral plane, and speak the incantation disparaître." As he spoke his hands mimicked the motions he was describing about the small goblet he had set in front of him, which began to disappear before their eyes.  
"Soul Stones do have a will of their own, truly tricky little things. As they are an extension of your soulmate's soul, you’ll find the more agreeable you are as a pair, the easier it will be to cloak them with your magic. Adversely, should you find yourself in conflict with them then their stones will reflect this by likely refusing any attempt at cloaking. You might still be successful should you remain persistent, but it will take much more concentration and determination on your part.   
You'll be able to tell if you’ve properly cast the incantation, because a shimmer of light will coat the object. As this charm is most commonly used to create Invisibility cloaks; it works very much the same, just without all the needless fabric. Really what a money grabber those pesky things are... Right then, your turn, your turn." Flitwick urged them with a wave of his hands.  
Again and again the incantation could be heard all around the room as every student attempted it to successfully disillusion their gems. Like many other things, Hermione’s first attempt was successful as she noticed the shimmery trait it took on.   
Looking about the room she noticed that slowly but surely everyone else's stones were fading away from view. Even Seamus had managed to make his disappear without causing an explosion. A feat that thankfully was becoming more common as the years passed.   
‘I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the smell of burning brows.’  
Then her eyes wandered over towards Harry a few seats down to check on his progress and offer him assistance if he needed it. Something she had begun to do much more often that the previous two years. Whether it was due to the respect she had found for him after waking up last year in the hospital bed and being informed of his accomplishments with the basilisk; or if it was the increasing compulsion she felt to allow her eyes to all but drink him in.  
It was quickly becoming a concerning habit, one she wasn’t certain she wished to break.   
As she observed his teardrop shaped geode it flickered out of sight, and then she felt the need to look away. Perturbed, she plucked hers from the table.  
‘What’s truly concerning, is that I can still see it,’ She thought as she glanced once more at the flickering image of his gemstone. ‘If I can still see it, then does that mean that’s my soul stone? It’s entirely possible, but the implications are almost unthinkable.’  
Absentmindedly she continued to play with her gemstone turning it round and round, stroking it occasionally. Unbeknownst to her, every time she ran her thumb along one of the many spikes a shiver ran down Harry’s spine.   
Harry’s eyes had been glued to Hermione ever since he had felt the first rush of warmth wash through him, much like her, his eyes had wandered down to her crystal as it shimmered in her delicate fingers. His heart skipped a beat, and he wondered if he was just imagining things.  
‘If I’m not.. Then that would mean she… we… No, that’s not bloody possible.’ He tore his eyes away from her and that red spikey gem cluster. Willing himself not to hope that she might actually be meant for him, and that these strange new feelings and urges weren’t so unexplainably unusual afterall.   
“I’m not nearly that lucky.”   
With twenty minutes left to the period only two people in the classroom hadn't been able to cast the spell correctly. Ronald Weasley, and Draco Malfoy, both having noticed that they were the only two left with visible stones. Fell once more into competition.  
One that it seemed Malfoy had won, as his amethyst sphere dissipated and Ron huffed in annoyance as his Black Opal disappeared a few seconds after.  
"Well done all! Now next class we will be discussing a new topic; so be sure to bring your books, and I’ll grade you on your performances over the weekend, so grades will be assigned on Monday!" Professor Flitwick waved them off with a triumphant look.  
Harry and Hermione separated from Ron as the red head had chosen to head straight down to the great hall for dinner, looking slightly dejected. While they set out to head back to their dorms in the Gryffindor house to drop their things off and change from their robes, only to find themselves walking straight into the backs of a crowd of Gryffindor students all waiting outside the portrait of the fat lady.  
"Why isn't anyone going in?" Hermione catechized quietly leaning in closer to Harry as she extended up onto her tippy toes attempting to see past the vast amount of heads.  
"Perhaps Neville forgot the password again," Harry suggested before a very insulted looking Neville who was currently behind them interrupted him.  
"It wasn't me this time, besides, I doubt this many people would forget the password."  
"He's quite right Potter," Percy said as he pushed past the three, creating a path for them to follow to the front of the crowd where they were greeted by the sight of an empty portrait which was torn in four places. It looked a lot like a claw was taken to the painting in rage, the three continued to gawk at it while Percy called for Professor Dumbledore, who came in a hurry pushing Harry behind him while he inspected the damage.  
"Who did this?" He asked while examining the faces of all the onlookers.  
"That's just it, we don't know professor, it was like this when we got here." Harry acknowledged  
"Spread out, check the portraits and ask around, we must find the fat lady!" He bellowed to the crowd which then began to scatter.  
In a beautiful field painting, with grazing giraffes, under close inspection they found her cowering behind a large log, now dressed in rags. It only took one name from her lips, and the entire school was sent into chaos, as the rest of the professors were herding the students away Harry and Hermione were being swept up under a protective arm by Professor Lupin.  
"Take them to safety Professor, we'll have to postpone the Hogsmeade trip to another time," Dumbledore said while he himself began casting spells to check wards around the campus.  
The days blurred together after that, where all of Gryffindor were temporarily housed in the grand hall while the professors decided on what to do with the portrait and discussed which one would replace her for the time being. The second week passed and the trio found that life seemed to be returning to normal. Harry, only slightly wiser now to the fact that Sirius Black was closely linked to the downfall of his parents, was relieved when Oliver Wood called their first Quidditch Tryouts of the season. Even when he droned on about the Quidditch House Cup evading them last year and them needing to get it this year for the first twenty or so minutes. The twins adding in their usual comedic commentary whenever the opportunity presented itself.   
Wood was hard on them, harder than he had been the year prior, as he began drilling them relentlessly on the field. “Only the best will make it on the team this year. Just because you made it last year does not guarantee you a spot on the team this year.”   
They spent hours out there through the harsh sun and humidity which eventually turned into rain. Still Wood pressed them on not calling it quits until he was satisfied with every decision he had made.   
Drenched, but satisfied. Harry made his way back to the Gryffindor common rooms. Happy to be headed back to his dorm for the first time in two weeks. He mumbled the new password tiredly to Sir Cadogan, the bumbling knight who was the Fat Lady’s temporary replacement.   
His tired smile quickly wore into a frown as everyone gossiped about their plans for the upcoming trip to hogsmeade that weekend, none the wiser to his souring mood. He headed for the showers trying desperately to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut.   
‘Here I am again, on the outs with my group of peers. Why can’t I just be normal and excited like them?’   
When he returned to the common room, now dressed in a warm jumper and a pair of joggers his damp hair tousled and dripping from a few random strands. All except one, continued on with their conversations making merry as they chattered about all the things they could do.   
"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked as she brushed some of his bangs back from his face, casting water down over her hand and onto his shoulder. "You look a bit down."  
Startled at the contact, he jumped back slightly and blushed a heavy red.  
"I- I'm fine Hermione, I just don't fancy talking about a trip that I can't even go on. What with the Professors keeping me on Castle lock down and not to mention that I won’t even be able to go once they release me from my solitary isolation. All because I couldn't get my family to sign my permission slip."  
Hermione sat down beside Harry unconsciously leaning her head on his shoulder.  
‘There are quite a fair few new liberty's she’s taking with my person now... ’   
Harry had only just relaxed when she shot up straight, the speed at which she had done so reminded Harry of a chaser set after the quaffle.   
‘The time turner! I can stay with Harry during the Hogsmeade trip, and if I decide that I really want to go I can then use the time turner to do just that! It may be breaking a rule or two that McGonagall set, but I could always tell her that it was for studying or to catch up on sleep. It wouldn't be the first time I’ve lied on Harry's behalf, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.’  
"I'll stay with you, Harry."   
"But Hermione it's the first Hogsmeade trip, I can't let you miss that!" Harry tried to insist, though the idea of having her here was pleasant to him. "Besides who's Ron supposed to hang with if you don't go?" He offered as an excuse.  
"Oh Ronald will be fine I'm sure, he has his siblings to follow around. But you would be left alone with the first and second years. And I don't want that." Hermione stated firmly in a no more arguments kind of tone, and though it wasn't the first time he had heard that tone from her, it was the first time he listened.  
"If you're sure, then thank you, Hermione, truly."   
"Of course I'm sure! There will be other Hogsmeade trips and I didn't fancy an outing anywa-" Hermione cut off, having just realized he had agreed with, and thanked her. Her skin colored, she rather liked it when Harry said thank you.  
"You're welcome Harry."  
Then the portrait swung open, and a frustrated Ron walked through the entrance, tossing his bag down: it gave a loud squeak in protest.  
"Oh, bugger, sorry about that scabbers," Ron said, patting his bag gently where it bulged. Then there was a meow, as Crookshanks hopped up onto Hermione's lap. Hermione had told Harry the other day, how it seemed as if that was his new favorite resting place. Yet he couldn’t help but to wonder what the cat had said but with all the others around; and knowing that she did not want to be labeled a freak, or to have a similar experience to what Harry went through last year. She was always extra careful when she was speaking felismouth with him.  
"Hey, you keep that thing away from my bag I've got my scabbers in there!" Ron yelled pointing an accusing finger at Crookshanks.  
"Oh honestly Ronald, he's a cat not a thing," Hermione said as she strokedCrookshank's back, he tilted his head to the side, eyeing up Ron's bag.

"Wormtail..." Crookshanks growled in his tongue, and when a squeak came from Ron's bag once more he pounced on it.  
"HEY GET OFF!" Ron shouted, snatching up his bag and swinging it around trying to shake Crookshank's claws.  
While Hermione was freaking out trying to catch him, and Crookshanks was growling “traitor” repeatedly. Harry was rolling on the floor with laughter at the scene, very much wishing that Colin was around to take a picture of the moment.   
With one final heave Ron shook off the feline, and Hermione caught him mid-flight.  
"That cat of yours is a menace Hermione!" Ron said clutching at his bag protectively, "Scabbers is already sick he doesn't need that bloody beast trying to eat him! He's just a poor rat!"  
"Get over it Ronald, Crookshanks is a cat! And in case you didn't know, that's what a cat does!" Hermione growled out, as she turned her back to the boy.  
"Well there's something weird about that cat, it's like he knew what I was saying when I said that scabbers was in my bag," Ron stated.  
"As if you're one to talk, hasn’t that rat been alive for 12 years? If something is off with my cat then there’s something wrong with that!" Hermione countered shrewdly. With nothing else to answer back, Ron stormed up to the boy’s dormitory, bag in hand. While Hermione returned to her seat next to Harry, making a mental note to ask Crookshanks what that was all about later.  
“Sorry, about that Harry…” Hermione huffed as he fought to contain his humor.   
“It’s alright Hermione, it was actually kind of funny.”   
“No it was not!”   
Harry's answering laugh reverberated throughout the near empty common room, and though she was still upset about the matter; she couldn’t stop herself from joining in pleased to have brought a smile back to his face.   
‘Such a fancable smile, I wish he would smile and laugh like this more often.’  
~  
“ Crookshanks.”   
“Hmm?” He hummed as he paced out the foot of her bed.   
“What in Merlin's name were you thinking down there?”  
“That’s no common rat Hermione, you said so yourself. It’s been alive now for a period of time that well exceeds the general life expectancy of any garden rat. I happen to know for certain that Scabbers is not what he appears to be.”   
“That doesn’t answer my question Crookshanks! What could you possibly mean by that? If he’s not what he appears to be and you know him personally, well enough to know for certain. Then what does that make you? Are you not just a cat?”   
“No Hermione, I’m not. I used to be a wizard and this is my animagus form. Scabbers is like me in that fact, both of us are unregistered animagi who took to these forms to hide away from those who would do us harm.”   
“You.. you can’t be serious. I’ve held you on my lap, and you sleep in my bed with me! You’re telling me that you’re not just a cat, but a bloody animagus?! If that’s the case then what’s your name, your real name?”   
“My name is Regulus. Regulus Arcturus Black, and I’ve been in hiding for nearly fourteen years. Your friend's pet Scabbers real name is Peter Pettigrew, he used to be close friends with my older brother: Sirius Black. The same man who’s in all the papers labeled an escaped convict. He was sent to Azkaban without a trial for the murder of one Peter Pettigrew, the betrayal of both James and Lily Potter which there by lead to their death at the hands of Voldemort, and the unwarranted murder of 12 muggles. But I can attest that he is innocent, Sirius would’ve never joined Voldemort, in fact he’s the very reason I never became a Death Eater either.”  
Hermione was at a loss for words. If she chose to believe what Crookshanks, no, Regulus. His name was Regulus. If she chose to believe what he was saying, then that meant not only had Harry purchased her a wizard for her as an early birthday present. But he had purchased her a wizard who was related to the man, that was allegedly the person who caused his parents death. Not only that, but that meant Sirius Black was their friend; and so was Peter Pettigrew who was apparently Ronald’s family pet.   
Of course if she could believe that, then that also meant Ron was harboring the true criminal, and the real threat to Harry was sleeping only feet away from him every night; and had been for a few years now.   
There was a sinking feeling in her gut as she paled at the realization that he was in danger, immediate danger once more.   
What should she do with that information, what could she do? Usually she would run and tell Harry right away, but would he believe her? The only proof she had was her word, he couldn’t understand Regulus like she could.   
“Unless…”   
“Regulus, we need to tell Harry about this. He deserves to know the truth. So I need you to change back, that way we can explain it to him as well.”  
“I would Hermione, but I'm afraid I had our house elf Kreacher use a sealing magic on me when I transformed last. There’s only a few things that could undo that, one is the forma vera spell cast by another witch or wizard to force my transformation back into a human. Or my death. ”   
“Forma Vera.. that’s a sixth year spell. But I can do it. I’ll cast the spell, I just need to read ahead. I’ll check in the library for books on animagi first, if I find nothing else I'll use the Time-turner to go out on the Hogsmeade trip and pick up books on the subject while I'm there.”  
“It’s a sixth year spell for a reason Hermione. It is very complex, and it requires a lot of control over one's magical core.   
“Yes well, you happen to be talking to the brightest witch of her age Crooks, sorry Regulus. If I can’t do it yet, just give me some time and I’ll figure out another way. Regardless, no matter what, we must tell Harry.”  
~  
Herbology class was particularly interesting the next day if you were to ask Neville Longbottom. Though learning about plants was the only thing he was really good at it seemed so it was no surprise that he found every Herbology class particularly riveting. Who wouldn’t want to learn about things like Shrivel Figs, or Mimbulus Mimbletonia. Even the more daunting plants like Devils Snare were less daunting a task for him to learn than the likes of some of the schools more terrifying classes.   
But if you were to ask the rest of the Gryffindors they would tell you that The Care of MagicalCreatures class was surely the highlight of that Friday. Because even with what had come to be known as the Bloody Chicken Incident shaking Hagrid's confidence, he was doing his best to keep it together for the class.  
He was, however, taking many more precautions now, such as keeping the students in front of him whenever introducing a Magical Creature acting as a buffer of sorts.   
That class he introduced them to the creatures that lived in the black lake. The Merpeople had built a metropolis of sorts in its depths.  
“Merfolk are fiercely loyal and honor bound creatures. Who are vicious when provoked, but luckily the only way to provoke them is by attempting to break a promise, that either you made to them, or endanger a promise they have made with someone else.”   
Hagrid had even gotten a representative from the Merfolk to come above water to flash their fangs, and show them a sharp trident pointed their way, to assure the students that they did not want to get on their bad sides.  
“How does he do that? How did he even speak to them? All I heard was bloody screeching.” Ron grumbled as they wandered away from the black lake.   
“Do you never pay attention during lectures Ronald, or is there something wrong with your brain's retention,” Hermione huffed. She had been extremely irritable all day as she had neglected to get any sleep, after her conversation with Crookshanks nee Regulus. As if she didn’t worry about Harry enough, everything that she learned last night would’ve sent her into a manic episode if she were prone to them.   
“He said that the Merfolk can’t talk above the water's surface. What, did you think he fancied a swim every time he dunked his head under the water?”  
“Right then, next time I’ll be sure to ask Hagrid to repeat everything I’ve missed, and fray his nerves further. Would that be better? ”   
“Guys enough! Why are you both behaving like squabbling children?”   
Startled by Harry’s reprimand Ron muttered quietly about the hard day he had in Divinations. Where Malfoy’s distractions and tauntings were enough to cause him to lose control of his magic and consequently break one of Trelawney's tea cups. She had been rather mad about it, though Ron speculated it had something to do with her not predicting to lose two of her precious china in the same day; as Neville had tripped over one of the edges to the numerous levels in the room during the beginning of class. He had once again nearly been assigned a month's worth of detention, and was fairly certain that if he weren’t her prodigal student then he probably would’ve been bloody well screwed.  
Hermione on the other hand looked down at her feet sheepishly, kicking at a pebble on the ground. Any explanation she mused, would make her seem crazy, and she just couldn’t risk telling him without all the evidence first.  
‘What if Crookshanks was wrong? What if Sirius Black isn’t innocent, or worse yet what if he is. I simply must go to the library and start researching.’   
The Hogsmeade weekend came and Ron was nearly in a tizzy that neither Harry nor Hermione were going. Having only just found out a few days prior he wasn’t looking forward to chasing around his brothers again. That’s why he had friends so he had people who wanted to be around him, and wanted to hang out with him.  
“So let me get this straight Hermione, you actually want to stay behind and miss the trip? I mean I get that Harry can’t go but this is the first time we’re ever going and you just want to skip it?”   
“Yes Ron, I want to stay here with Harry. No one should have to miss their first trip to Hogsmead but he has no choice so I’ve made mine. Besides it will be the perfect time to catch up on our homework and maybe attempt our transfigurations again. Don’t you think Harry?”   
“Huh? Oh! Uhh yeah of course… that sounds like a lot of fun Hermione…” Harry was just thankful to not be the only one of the third years to stay behind. He’d had enough of being singled out and being “special”, but that didn’t make going to the library anymore appealing that it had been in the past. ‘Honestly if Madam Pince wasn’t so strict and harsh about any kind of noise I might enjoy it more.’  
“Alright, well I’ll bring you both back lots of candy from honeydukes and maybe a butterbeer from The Three Broomsticks if I can manage it.”   
~  
Hermione, not one to ever kid about working on school work, was quick to drag Harry to the library. While she also went about researching the forma vera spell, and ran over in her head about a million different ways she could tell Harry what she had found out. She had spent the first few hours fidgeting, while Harry was gazing upon her absentmindedly, with her hair cinched up in a quick tie and her jumper slipping down ever so slightly, he pondered over when she became so fanciable.   
‘If this is what she always looks like while studying I think I might join her more often.’  
Then as his eyes wandered down memorizing every freckle and inch of her exposed skin, the image of a star necklace shimmering as it rested gently on her chest pledged him. It appeared to be so real that he had to blink a few times before it disappeared.  
‘What was that?’ He wondered, waiting briefly to see if it would appear again. When it didn’t he glanced once more down at his teardrop geode. ‘I wonder… was it my item? Is that what you’re meant to turn into?’   
With that thought in his head, he pictured the necklace in all its brilliance; and as he relaxed it seemed to materialize once more around Hermione's neck. Quickly and as quietly as possible he taped the top of his stone reciting D'une flamme jumelle, and began to twirl his wand in an anticlockwise circle around the tip of his gem. When the stone began to shrink, warping its shape his concentration grew, and his wand gently slowed to a stop as it continued to transform into the necklace he had imagined right before his eyes; and once it looked identical to the one he saw hanging around Hermione's neck, he whispered mes prennent formé.  
Snatching the necklace from the table, dangling it in front of his face with the golden chain wrapped around his fingers inspected it more closely. The gem itself had changed to an iridescent jewel, something that wasn’t quite an opel but shared very similar properties, it had four long golden spikes and three smaller ones that spanned the space in between each large arm, which were also riddled with smaller bits of the iridescent gem. Harry thought that it was a wondrously beautiful item, perhaps a little girly but that didn’t bother him as much when he remembered that it was a representation of his soulmate’s soul.   
‘She must be beautiful,’ He thought as he glanced back towards Hermione; their eyes clashing over his hand which was clutching the golden chain of his necklace.  
"What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked, her eyes dancing along the lengths of gold that were visible for her eyes to pursue.   
"I did it, Hermione! It transformed!" He whispered sharply, if they were anywhere else he would’ve shouted. Maybe even danced with cheer, he hadn’t felt this gleeful since he had caught his first snitch on the quidditch pitch. He stuck his arm out to show her though just as he did he remembered the invisibility charm that was supposed to keep her from seeing it.  
"Congratulations Harry," Hermione said, "What did it turn into?" She questioned as frown crept onto her face, and her brow creased. ‘If he says it’s a necklace I’ll know I’m not seeing things.’  
"A necklace," Harry said, as he began struggling to clasp it on himself. He wondered how girls did this sort of thing and made it look so easy. Realizing he was better at clipping his hair then he was at putting the metal parts together behind his head, he pulled it forward and fought to clasp it in front of him.   
Hermione was caught between chuckling at his expense and wanting to offer her assistance. But that would mean admitting to more than herself that she could see it. It would mean admitting that he was hers and she was his. A fact which was truly terrifying, because she didn’t feel as if she could live up to the standard of a woman that he deserved. Nor did she believe that he could or would ever see her in that light. Buck teeth, bushy hair and all, she couldn’t dare to tell him because she wasn’t brave enough to see the rejection and disappointment in his eyes.   
With a grunt, he finally got the clasp together and noted happily that the chain was enchanted, and expanded when he attempted to pull it on over his head.  
"That's great Harry," Hermione pouted. There were many reasons now for her to be upset with herself but she hadn't struggled with anything so much since she had tried summoning a broom their first year. Which was part of the reason why she didn't like flying, that bloody broom never listened to her, and it absolutely terrified her that should she try to fly, she would plummet to the ground and die, or worse embarrass herself.  
"How did you do it?" She asked looking down at her gem cluster, which she had begun to expect was actually a ruby and not an agate crystal like she had originally thought.   
"I know this is going to sound silly…” Harry paused, did he really want to tell her he had been admiring her figure while she had been so focused on studying? How could he tell her the image came to him as he was staring at her like he was an inmate on death row and she was his last meal. “It’s kinda difficult to explain... But I know you Hermione, you're trying to use logic, to will it into working, and that’s really not going to do anything. You need to feel it, Hermione. "   
Harry said as he placed a hand over hers while using the free one to tuck his necklace into his shirt.  
She blushed heavily while looking at his hand, she had heard that he had held her hand like this second year while she was in the infirmary petrified. But the fact that he was holding her hand so reassuringly now, while she was awake, and where people could see. She wasn't sure how to react.  
“I suppose you’re right, but logic is my only strength. I’m not a great wizard Harry, I’m not like you. I’m all about books and cleverness remember?”   
“Don’t do that Hermione, don’t put yourself down. Ron and I wouldn’t have survived first year without you, and it was your notes that helped up in second year as well. You know without that we would’ve never figured out that it was a Basilisk or that it was using the pipes in the walls to travel. You’re not a great wizard, you’re a brilliant witch; and I for one would rather be brilliant than just lucky.”  
“I don’t know Harry, there are far more things that you can do than I.”   
“The only things you “can’t” do Hermione are the things you don’t trust yourself enough to do.”  
Blushing, she glanced away from his steady gaze. Looking down his necklace as it drifted away from his torso, she closed her eyes, deciding to concentrate on her breathing desperately hoping she wasn’t making a fool of herself. As she calmed herself with Harry’s hand, still in hers an image appeared in her mind's eye.  
It was a necklace on a long golden chain, much like the one she had seen dangle from Harry’s hand.  
A rack of maroon antlers were interlocked in a haphazard way, with flecks of gold woven together to create the delicate chain.  
As she lifted the jewellery over her head, she noted the way the chain expanded, much like her companion’s. She wasted little time tucking it under her shirt, aware that if she could see Harry’s, no doubt he could see hers. Once it was safely hidden, she felt the beginning tingles of a blush on her cheeks before she tucked a stray strand of hair behind an ear. “How about we go for a walk? Stretch our legs a bit?” Harry asked, an easy smile on his lips. “I’d like that.” Hermione smiled, already moving to gather her books as a little flutter danced about in her chest.


	6. Chapter Six

A/N: Oh my goddess that took so long for me to write! I am so sorry!! I had some trouble figuring out the dynamics between a few of the characters in this chapter so it took me much longer than I would’ve liked to finally sit down and just write it. 

Trigger Warning: This chapter will use cruel taunts towards homosexuality, I by no means support this kind behavior, and am a proud member of the LGBTQ+ Allies but I am using them in this story, because almost every person I know has told me a story of their experiences being something similar to this. I apologize to anyone who’s ever been on the receiving end of this kind of harassment and I hope you know that there is nothing wrong with anyones sexuality. Love is love. 

Also I’ve created a Discord Server that anyone can join. Where all my loyal readers can discuss the latest chapter, get sneak peaks of the up and coming chapters, there will be votes and discussions about what you, the readers, might wish to see next, and much more! 

Here’s the direct link! https://discord.gg/j3jDpb

I hope to see you there! 

OH! And a good friend of mine agreed to beta the story! Without ‘em, there would be loads more grammar errors and typos.

Now on with the story!

Chapter Six: Of Grindylows, Time-turners, and Dementors

“What are you doing with a water demon in your office Remus?”   
"It's a Grindylow, we’ve been over this. When will you start calling them by their common name.”   
“Umm, when the common name becomes cooler than calling them water demons.” Aphrodisia shrugged, tapping on the glass until the odd looking little octopus hissed, and shot behind the tall seaweed in the back corner of the tank.  
“We’re bloody magical Moony, yet everyone is always so hush hush about the actual existence of so many other intelligent magical things... When else is it acceptable to talk about having literal demons among us? Don’t answer that, I already know it’s not often. I hardly ever get to discuss them, I teach a subject that wouldn’t exist without them, and the most they are mentioned is in an introductory paragraph or two. ”   
“That might be because demons have this nasty tendency of possessing people and wreaking havoc on their lives and those around them.”   
“One, you and I both know demons only possess people that have personally insulted them, and two I think it has a lot more to do with the fact that their chaos magic is stronger than ours, the Wizengamot is fearful of anything that's stronger than them.”   
“Don't you think you're just a little bit biased because Ancient Runes wouldn’t exist without them?”  
"That's besides the point Remus, irrelevant."   
Chuckling, he gestured towards his office, “Would you fancy a bit of tea, I was just about to make myself a pot.”  
“Now don’t go trying to change the subject, honestly Remus. This is something you really should care more about. Given your condition.”  
“It’s not that I don’t care about the subject, I just grow weary of beating a brick wall with a wooden stick. No matter how big it is… and I wasn’t just trying to change the subject. Now do you want some tea or not?”   
There was a pause while he waited for her response but her eyes were glued to the lone Grindylow which had inched its way back out of hiding its brittle fingers now placed on the glass, as it seemed to be giving her a once over. Its gills flexed in and out, filtering through the water, and bringing oxygen to its lungs. If anything had changed to cause this new behavior Remus was uncertain, but the only thing worth noting was that the little demon now looked curious about her.  
It offered her a slow blink and a feral grin, before twirling around in the water marrily.   
Aphrodisia smiled.  
“Yes, that would be wonderful. Thank you, Moony.”   
Flicking his wrist a clicking sound and a woosh came from the back as the stove top sparked to life, presumably beginning to heat up a pot of water for their tea. 

“I don’t know how you do that.” 

“Do what?” 

“Befriend such dangerous things with just a bat of your eyelashes.”   
“It’s all about your body language, even a baby will wail if all you do is scowl at it.” 

“I did plenty more than scowl at little Harry and he still “wailed” uncontrollably when I held him.”

“You were also never relaxed when you held him. I’m telling you they can sense those kinds of things.” 

“Look at you, could head your own magical creatures communications department if you wanted to.”

“You know how often I used to wish there was a magical diplomacy department created in the Ministry.” Aphrodisia whispered, her smile taking on a sadder note. “Imagine all the things we could accomplish if only the Ministry was willing to collaborate with other magical intelligents. But their superiority complex would never let the like of that happen. It would take two thirds of the Wizengamot vote to enact such a drastic change… Lil and I, we thought we could be the catalyst to that. ” 

“Yes, I remember. This was something you and Lily spoke about often after our days in Hogwarts. You two were thick as thieves, always pouring over pages and pamphlets of all the changes you wanted to implement after the war was over.” 

“So many dreams wasted, because of that one ill-fated night.” 

“You could still try to change things you know… You’ve always been a force of wonder, anything you set your mind to you’ve accomplished.” 

“All but one...” 

“Disia…” Remus trailed off as both their thoughts wandered to darker places. Just as a large silver tray with a teapot and two cups on it made its way down to his classroom floating gently towards them, before placing itself on one of the tables. “I’m sure we all wish that night had never happened, even the friends we lost that night.” 

“We didn’t lose them Remus, three of them are dead,and the fourth is rotting away in a dark cell where he’s not even allowed visitors. Accused and imprisoned without a trial to even prove he was guilty!” She was crying now, her shoulders shaking. He rose from his seat at the table to wrap a comforting arm around her. She turned her face into his chest clinging to him as her sobs grew stronger.

“I tried, Remus! I begged and I pleaded, all I wanted was for him to get a trial! It was only fair! I must have gone to the Ministry a million times to appeal his case, and everytime I was turned away, without even being allowed past the reception hall!” 

“Shush now, it will be okay Featherwing…” He tried to soothe, pulling her closer.

“It is never going to be okay Moony! He must think that I've abandoned him I-”

"It seems I'm interrupting something." Snape said, stepping through the door having forgone waiting for an invitation to enter. His black eyes narrowing at the pair, carrying a goblet which was faintly smoking, he moved towards Lupin.

"Ah Severus," Said Lupin, smiling. " Thanks very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?"

Setting down his burden he turned once more towards the pair. Aphrodisia was clinging on to Remus, the likes of which he hadn’t seen her do since their school days. Her face was buried in his chest and he could hear her quietly sniffling. ‘It’s been quite a while since she’s been such a sight... I thought that after years of being coworkers she and I had come to a mutual understanding, learning to lean on each other in times like this… but then again, ’ Severus glanced up at Lupin. ‘I never was part of their rag-tag group.’ As if reading his mind Lupin spoke up.

"I was just showing Aphrodisia the grindylow I acquired for my next lesson." Remus gestured to the tank in the corner where the creature had taken to bearing its green fangs in outrage. It’s eyes focusing on the new “intruder”. 

"Fascinating," Snape drawled looking away. "You'll want to drink this directly, Lupin." He said tapping the lip of the goblet.

"Yes, yes I will," Lupin said, waving him off.

"I made a whole cauldron full," Snape continued. "So if you need any more, you know where to find me." And with that he went sweeping out of the classroom, black robes fluttering about behind him.

There was a long pause as they waited until they were certain they were alone once more.   
“Now that’s enough of that, you didn’t abandon him, and when the time comes I’ll be sure he knows.” 

“But, how will he ever get a trial? He’s an escapee now Moony, he could get the kiss for this and not the kind he liked either.” 

Remus chuckled, remembering all the coat tails Sirius had chased in their school days, before his smile dropped. Also recalling all the times he had comforted Disia in a similar fashion because of those childish actions. “Yes I suppose not… But enough of that it doesn’t do well to dwell on sad thoughts.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a half melted chocolate bar. 

“Here… have a bit of this.” 

*Sniff* “It helps,” *sniff* “It really helps.” She tried to jest, his infamous line that he’s used since they were kids. Hand on her head he ruffled her hair which was down for a change, causing long locks falling in a tangled mass of curls down her back, to bounce. “Yes, that it does. Now lets talk of other things.” 

“Okay... “ *Sniff* “Is that what I think it is?” 

"Yes, Severus has very kindly agreed to concocting the potion for me," he said walking away from her. 

"As you know, I've never been much of a potioneer, and this potion in particular, has never agreed with me; no matter how many attempts I make." Lifting the goblet to his nose and sniffing it. He grimaced, "It truly is a pity that sugar makes it useless." Taking a sip he shuddered

“I don’t envy you right now, surely it’s as bitter as an unripe dulcificum berry.”

“Mmhm, it is quite an acquired taste; one that I do not seem to possess.”

“Didn’t Lily figure out a way to make it taste better?” 

“Yes, but unfortunately it was another one of her many inventions that never got published, and her notes I fear were lost to the Potter mansion, like so many other things.” 

“Has anyone gone there? You know since…” She broke off hesitant to bring the painful subject back up. 

“No, I don’t think anyone has… And trying to go there now would be wasted efforts unless young Harry were to grant us access. Seeing as he still hardly knows us I doubt the likelihood of him doing that is very high.” 

“Ah yes, I guess that's more my fault really. He’s been a student here for three years already, even one of my students now. Which I'm exceedingly proud of him for, but I still haven’t figured out how to approach him on this subject. Because well, I don’t fancy blubbering like a baby to him as I just did with you. The best that I could come up with so far is, “Oh hi Harry, you don’t know me but I was close with your parents. So do you fancy a spot of tea and tears?”.”

“Pfft” Remus snorted as he sipped on his tea, having elected to drink the rest of the bitter potion at a later date. “Well perhaps you could word it a little better than that.” 

“Right then, how about this “Hello Mr. Potter, I’m Professor Aphrodisia Fae. I teach the Ancient Runes elective course here at Hogwarts, obviously... I’m a Master Rune worker and hm what else... oh yes! I used to be best friends with your parents. It's all still a rather sensitive subject for me so how about you come round to my office and I’ll cry to you about it over some baguettes and crumpets.” because well... I’ve gotta feed the boy of course.” 

Lupin was besides himself with laughter by the time she had finished her little rant. It took him a long moment before he could compose himself enough to reply. 

“I imagine he’d be grateful for any information on them at all, even if it comes with a side of “blubbering”. As it seems, he takes after them quite a bit.” 

“Yes, from what I've seen and heard these past three years it truly is a wonder how he can be so much like them, yet know so little. It’s almost cruel how little he’s been told. You know Hagrid told me he thought his parents died in a car crash. Can you believe that?! 

Petunia and Vernon actually told Harry nothing of the magical world. Even went as far as lying to the boy about his heritage. I mean they were never great people, they were jealous of our powers and the world we belonged to. But remembering all the play dates they had between Dudley and Harry, and the hope that Lily had for repairing her broken relationship with her sister… it’s heartbreaking that Petunia would allow something like this to happen. Then there’s the fact that Harry was never released to me; I’m his godmother for crying out loud!”

“You don’t think it has anything to do with your relationship with Padfoot?”

“Well at first I did… but I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it, and I know Sirius let Hagrid use his motorbike to take Harry to safety before he… well you know.” 

“Went after Wormtail?” 

“Yeah, but shouldn’t Hagrid have brought him to me directly? I’m certain Sirius would’ve told him where I was. But instead he took him to Dumbledore, who then left him with the Dursleys and used the Fidelius charm on their house. All before Sirius was even accused of mass murder.”

Mooney's face contorted, quickly running through the timeline in his head. His eyes widened as the realization dawned on him that she was right. He himself had gone looking for Harry, and had found Dumbledore instead. He had thought it odd at the time that Dumbledore had stepped in on such private matters, but he had been assured that everything would make sense once their wills were read. But then again.. he can’t remember ever being summoned for their readings. Maybe they had changed things in their will in the time that he had been gone which excluded him from the readings. There was really only one way to know for sure...

“Were Lily and Jame’s wills ever read?”

“I…” Disia paused, her eyes flickering left and right quickly as if she was reading a document or a book. But a quiet dred seemed to settle in her bones as her face paled. Swallowing thickly, she met his gaze before continuing. ”I don’t believe they were.”

“Hm, yet another thing that the Ministry has neglected to do properly it seems.” Remus mused, thoughtfully scratching at his chin. 

“It’s all rather odd isn’t it? I mean one day Dumbles showed up at one of our OOTP meetings declaring that the Longbottoms and the Potters were in danger. Which somehow led to him taking over the meetings and becoming the Phoenix’s head. Changes everyone's plans around, even going as far as forcing them to switch their safe house locations. With some morbid mambo jumbo line like “I fear that with the new information that’s come to light your current residents...” All of which were heavily warded and runed for protection “might have already been compromised.” And by the end of it little Harry was orphaned, and abandoned where he never should’ve been in the first place, Peter is murdered and Sirius is in prison labeled guilty for it all.”

“And the only person who came out unscaved was, old white beard himself.” 

“Exactly! He even seemed to benefit from it too! Remember his titles as the Supreme Mugwump, and Chief Warlock were up for re-election that year, and he won them back with a landslide vote for the part he played in bringing down you-know-who.” 

“I agree, but I think it would be unwise to discuss this topic any further given our current employment.” 

“I suppose you’re right.” 

Sharing a meaningful look that promised they would discuss it more later, they finished their tea with relative silence. 

“Moony… I’m glad to have you back.” She mumbled breaking the quiet atmosphere, eyes never leaving the teacup clenched tightly in her hands. 

“You never really lost me Disia, I was just away for a little while…” 

The conversation lulled again each lost in their own troubling thoughts, but when Disia grasped his clenched fist that was resting tensely on the table, offering him a familiar soft smile his heart clenched. 

“We’ll start with the easy things then?” Her question: whispered just as softly as her smile shone caught him off guard, and though he prided himself on his usually quick wit. His mind drew a blank as to what she could have meant. 

“The easy things?” he inquired as his mind wondered at what she could possibly think of in this entire situation that was easy to deal with. 

“Yes, we’ll fix the broken relationships first. Spend some much needed time with Harry, get to know who he’s become, and finally tell him the stories from our past that are long past due to be shared with him. And… we can fix us too Remus.” 

“What is there to fix between us Disia?” 

“Well we could start with why you left all those years ago.” 

As the silence stretched between them his jaw worked to speak the words that had been left unsaid for years, but how did someone express a voiceless love that was well past it’s expiration date? Glancing down at the hand that still clutched his, eyes falling on Sirius’s ring, still shining proudly on her ring finger. His jaw tensed, and he pulled his hand from hers as he stood from his chair and moved away from her. He couldn’t.

“Perhaps... another time then.” She muttered quietly, her sentence as broken as she felt inside at his dismissal. Standing from her seat and moving to offer a goodbye to the little demon in his watery prison, she fought back tears for an entirely different reason. 

“I should be going. I’ve got papers to grade… runes to etch…” But her excuse fell on an empty classroom as Remus had already made his way back to his office. 

“Huh that’s strange… How long has this been open?” Disia muttered as she approached the door to the corridor. It was slightly ajar, and was open just enough that sound would’ve easily traveled through. Stepping into the hall she glanced both ways as if she was waiting to cross a busy street, sensing nothing out of the ordinary she brushed the lingering worry away before closing the door gently behind her. 

~ A Little While Earlier~

“Do you want to talk about it? Harry?”

“Huh? Oh. Sorry Hermione, I was just lost in thought... What did you say?.” 

“Do you want to talk about what we heard outside the Defence classroom earlier?” Hermione inquired again, clutching at her necklace which had hung heavily around her neck ever since they had stumbled upon the open classroom where their teachers had been talking. 

“No, not really.” He muttered sourly, his heart heavy. Glancing over at Hermione his steps faltered and their eyes locked. Swallowing past the sudden knot in his throat, he felt compelled to spill all his troubling thoughts by the shine in her eyes, and the way she was clutching tightly at the center of her jumper. A gold chain he was certain wasn’t there when he had been ogling her in the library was digging into the curver of her neck as if that was what she was truly clinging on to with such desperation. 

“She’s my godmother, and she’s never said anything... She’s had three years, she could’ve come up to me at any time and shared stories with me about my parents. Taken me in… I could’ve been away from the Dursleys… Somewhere else, I could’ve had a home. A place where I might have felt...” He paused, his insecurities digging their claws deep into his gut. He didn’t want to tell her that he worried she didn’t want him. All he kept thinking about was how unwanted it made him feel, like he was unworthy of any comfort and even less of love. 

Suddenly he was six years old, waking up alone in the backseat of Uncle Vernon's car. It was his birthday and they had promised to take him to the park to celebrate. He spent the better part of an afternoon searching the entire park looking for his family, only to find the Dursley’s happily pushing Dudley on the swings, blissfully unaware of his presence and pain. He had felt like this then, and ever since. 

‘Why didn’t they want me? Does anyone want me? Am I that unloveable?’ 

“Oh Harry!” Hermione cried barrling into his chest. She had seen the emotion on his face and felt the ache as if she had heard the very thought in his head. Wrapping her arms around his waist she pulled herself closer, as if she was physically trying to fill the hole in his chest that had been empty for years.

“I’m certain she wanted you!” She vowed, her own eyes welling with tears that threatened to fall when she felt wet drops hit her head, his arms wrapped around her shoulders, trying and failing to pull her impossibly closer. His head fell forward until his chin rested atop hers and his entire body trembled. He didn’t ask how she knew what he had been thinking, something telling him that there was no real explanation for it. Somehow, though the words were never said she had heard him and he cried because he finally felt something else he hadn’t felt in years. 

Understood. 

~Hogsmeade~

“Oh come on Ronald!” 

“Cheer Up!” 

“It’s your first ever trip to Hogsmeade…”

“.... there's no time for long faces!”

“Stuff it.” Ron muttered annoyed to be stuck spending his precious free time with Fred and George. He loved the twins, he really did, but he had grown tired of chasing them around years ago.

Any moment now they would take off to Zonkos to plot their next few months worth of pranks, and unless he wanted to be an unwilling participant that meant he’d be stuck wandering the unfamiliar streets alone. 

He grumbled once more over the changing dynamic in his friend group. It seemed to be that this was becoming the new norm. Harry and Hermione would run off to do their own thing and he’d be stuck alone and bewildered at the speed that everything was changing. Or worse, he’d be left with Malfoy again. 

As if his thoughts had summoned him the greasy git bumped into him from behind, the laughter clear in his voice as he mocked him. 

“Awe isn’t that cute look at the little ginger, spending time with his family. Got no friends of your own there weasle-be?” 

“Shove off Malfoy.” Ron said as he tried his best to ignore his goading when Carb and Goyle’s laughter joined in. 

“What's that? Ickle Ronnikins too scared to go out and make some more friends?” 

“I said, shove off Malfoy.” He growled darkly, he wasn’t in the mood to deal with the trio he had dubbed the scumball slimy slytherins.

Muchless be reminded of the feelings that looking at the blonde haired boy always seemed to stir up in him as of late. But worst of all, he was taunting him in front of his jokerster brothers who would never let him live down the new nicknames he had just given them. He could already hear them snickering behind him, each one taking turns reiterating “Ickle Ronniekins.” like it was the funniest joke they had heard in a long time. 

“Oooo, you hear that boys? Seems like I’ve touched a nerve. Gingersnap here looks ready to bust a top! Careful now or he might just blow a gasket.” 

Maybe it was the never ending flow of embarrassing new nicknames, or the fact that he didn’t have Harry and Hermione there to insist that this wasn’t worth it. It might have even been because he was jealous of the way Draco seemed to never have a hair out of place. As if nothing could frazzel him and it just thoroughly pissed him off that he was always so well kept and put together. But when a response that he thought was a clever quip roared into his head there was nothing in the world that could hold the words back. 

“Gingersnap? Oh that’s rich coming from a grease pit, maybe if you spent less time grooming yourself and more time focusing on things that actually matter you’d be better equipped to taunt someone into actually giving a shit.” He paused as he gave him a quick once over, a cruel smirk that gave Malfoy’s a run for its money curving on to his lips. “ Then again how else would people be able to tell how much of a fag you are?” 

The glee he found in the shocked look that fell over Draco’s face was quickly replaced by guilt. But he was just too sick of his taunts and petty jabs to really pay it any mind. 

Lately it seemed like the universe got some kind of sick and twisted kick from torturing him and making him as uncomfortable as possible.

All he wanted was an easy third year, after the craziness that had been his past two spent beside the boy-who-lived. ‘Just another shadow, whose shoes I can never hope to fill.’ 

“What got nothing smart to say now? Am I right then? Ha! Are you into boys Malfoy?! What am I your type or something? Is that why you never leave me alone?”

“Are you daft? Do you think that’s a good insult or something? Here’s a hint Weasley, the next time you try to insult someone, make sure to know your facts first. I mess with you because it’s easy. Not because of any sick delusion you might have that I’m interested in you.” 

When he and his group turned to walk away Ron should’ve been happy, he had gotten what he wanted after all. But the look of disappointment on his brothers faces, and the sinking feeling in his gut made it practically impossible. 

“Not cool Ronald.” 

“Yeah, Ma raised us better than that.” 

They turned away from him, off to Zonkos like he had predicted. Leaving him behind; once again feeling like the family disappointment. 

With fist clenched at his sides, glaring down at his muddy shoes. He spent about five minutes convincing himself that the sting in his eyes was only there because of his brother's judgement, and how entirely unfair it was that they told him he was the one in the wrong. 

‘They aren’t the ones on the other end of his ridicule on a daily basis. Wonder how’d they like it if someone was always insulting them like that. I bet you they’d react just like I did… They wanna act all high and mighty now because they weren’t the ones in the situation… They’re no better than me. I’m certain of it.’

His thoughts drifted to pale greys and manicured hair, and the guilt that he ignored earlier came back with a bitter vengeance. Reminding him that he was upset with more than just his brothers. 

‘This has nothing to do with the fact that blonde hair and steel eyed Slytherin boys have no attraction to me.’

He insisted, narrowing his eyes and shoving his hands into his pockets. 

“To hell with it, I don’t bloody need anyone then.” 

Stomping his way over to Honeydukes, he couldn’t fight the compulsion to try and find the trio of Slytherins in the crowd. Eyes dancing across every face, back and profile in sight. There was no way he would ever admit to anyone but himself that he was hoping to make eye contact with stormy grey skies. 

~

When the day was over, and everyone had returned from their trip to Hogsmeade, the boys had retired to their dormitory, quickly dressed in their pajamas and happily trying all the candies that Ron had brought back with him from Honeydukes.

“Ahh no, you’ve got to try this one Harry!” Semaus called holding out a steamer. “It’s so hot it will have steam burstin’ from yer ears!” 

Harry had long since decided to try and forget about the conversation he had overheard between the professors, choosing instead to enjoy some time spent as a normal teenage boy, but Ron was brooding in a corner barely partaking in the festivities. 

“Everything alright there Ron?” concerned for his friend, he forgot about the steam still slowly leaking from his ears.

“Yeah. Everything's bloody wonderful. ” Ron chuckled, but Harry wasn’t fooled. 

“You wanna talk about it mate?” 

“There’s not much to say, just had another run in with Malfoy today.” 

“Ha! I heard about that!” Dean called from the other end of the room. “ You called the snake a ‘fag’ right in the middle of Hogsmeade!” 

“What?”

“Yeah! The git was laying into him again, calling him all sorts of embarrassing nicknames so Ron asked him if he liked him or somethin’! It was hilarious the look on the snake's face was priceless when he said it too! Makes me think he really was harassing’ him, because he's into him!” 

“Could you imagine? Being interested in another bloke like that? HA! Bloody unnatural that is.” 

There were many things Harry was inexperienced with when it came to being a good friend due to his upbringing, but one thing he was intimately familiar with was the look of unspoken insecurities. 

So when Ron visibility flinched from Seamus’s insult, and his body language screamed the error with downcast eyes, his arms crossed defensively in front of his chest. There was no hiding the knowledge from him. 

‘Ron’s gay.’ Green eyes wide with shock, quickly squinted into confusion.

‘Merlin! He’s GAY… Not that there’s anything wrong with that if he is, it's just that… well he didn’t tell me. Wait, why didn’t he tell me?’

“Nah I feel worse for his friends if he is, imagine being friends with someone whose gay! The bloke could be checking you out when you’re getting changed, getting off to it or somethin’!” 

Ron flinched again, looking away from the group his eyes focused on the sky outside his window a deep frown on his face. 

‘Is that it? Does he think I wouldn’t want to be his friend anymore if I knew? Well he’s wrong.’

He placed what he hoped was a comforting hand on his shoulder, offered a gentle smile and a squeeze ignoring the shocked face of his best friend, before he quickly changed the subject. 

‘I’m sure you’ll tell me when you’re ready.’ 

~

Hermione was in the common room, pouring over transfiguration books. The list of things she had to do only seemed to be growing. 

One, learn how to cast the Forma Vera spell, if that doesn't work find a way to tell Harry about scabbers/Pettigrew, two come to terms with the fact that Harry is very possibly, if not definitely her soulmate. Three find a way to approach Professor Fae about Harry hopefully without indicating that they had been eavesdropping in any fashion, Four figure out why the Potters' wills hadn’t been read, five if what they said about the Headmaster was true, could he even be trusted, All the while finding the time and concentration to focus on her very heavy work load from classes. 

Not for the first time she grumbled in frustration as she struggled to get herself to focus on the current task at hand.

‘One thing at a time Hermione.’ 

She kept telling herself, but her mind kept wandering to the broken look on Harry’s face when they overheard Professor Fae discuss the Dursleys and had admitted to being his godmother.

It was that same look which had brought her back to that location hours later, time-turner in hand. She watched as Harry and her past self approached the room from down the corridor, her eyes stuck solely on him and the way his smile lit up the room while they talked about little to nothing important. His green eyes glittered and she found herself lost for breath when she thought she caught him casting quick glances at her, a handsome blush decorating his cheeks. 

“...Can you believe that?!” 

‘No.’ Her mind answered, as if the question had been directed at her distracted thoughts. They hadn’t been of course, which she already knew. Fae had already continued on with her mini rant while her brain was busy short circuiting. 

She didn’t know which was worse, watching his expression crumble right next to him the first time, or watching him run away without being able to follow the second. 

Steeling herself against the impulse to chase after him again, the knowledge that her past self was already at his side placating her, she forced herself to focus back on the task at hand.

‘You’re doing this for Harry.’

But when both the professors alluded to the possibility that Dumbledor was the reason behind Harry’s placement at the Dursleys, she struggled to reconcile the knowledge with the grandfatherly image that she knew him by. 

‘Is that all for show? Is he really the reason why Harry was raised by those horrible people who put bars on his window? And what about his parents will, has it really never been read?’ 

Glancing at her bag she pondered over how much trouble she would get in if Professor McGonagall ever found out that she had broken the strict rule of only using the time turner for her studies, and selfcare. And not for the first time, she decided that whatever punishment she recieved would be worth it. If it helped Harry, then it was always worth it. 

Her hand gripped at her necklace, absentmindedly stroking along the crescent while she pondered over her options. 

‘If I’m unable to cast the spell how am I gonna tell him… will he even believe me? Or will he think I'm crazy? Then there's that look in the hallway… Could he possibly like me? Or is this just wishful thinking?’

Her head fell back on the edge of the couch, another exhausted groan tumbling from her lips. 

Crookshanks jumped up on her lap, and she sighed. ‘What am I going to do?’

~

Their next Defense Against the Dark Arts Class, Hermione had rushed the boys from the great hall and down the corridors to the troublesome classroom. All the while insisting that they would not, and should not be late. 

Though it hadn't mattered much, since Professor Lupin was nowhere to be seen.

The entire class sat there for a while uncertain if they would get in trouble for leaving if there was no professor to teach them. Everyone found something else to occupy their time while they waited for their teacher to arrive. 

Malfoy started cracking jokes about Dementors, admittedly ignoring the freckled faced ginger sitting in between them who seemed to be against the idea of Harry becoming the main target of sorts for his taunting. 

Ron, still upset over their last encounter, was doing his best at cracking jokes about bloody chickens, and being a daddy's boy. Most of which only granted him a hardened glare from the slytherin lad, but had otherwise gone ignored. 

Hermione was tapping her fingers on the desktop anxiously, staring down the Grindylow. Which had taken to hiding in the seaweed in the corner of its tank, something Harry couldn’t blame it for, he would’ve hid too if he was the one at the receiving end of one those blank stares. 

He himself was exhaustedly playing with his star-shaped necklace. That had been giving off a disquiet air, which had left him restless for the past two days.

Spending the nights tossing and turning, as the star shone brightly, undaunted by his nightshirt. When he did sleep his dreams were filled with Hermione, reading in the common tucked into her favorite armchair, gold chain glinting in the dim light of a flickering fire. Or pacing worriedly in front of the fireplace while tugging at her hair. 

He wanted to know what was on that chain, Hermione had never worn jewelry before. But this necklace hasn’t been taken off since he first noticed it in the corridor when she hugged him. It had felt warm to the touch where his bare skin had brushed it, when they embraced. Though he had been far more concerned with his insecurities at the time to pay it any mind then, the memory of it hadn’t left his mind since. 

Many times he went down the stairs to the common room and was correspondingly greeted by the same bushy bunch of hair and uncommonly warm chocolate eyes that had been the star of his dreams.

How many times had Harry questioned her why she was still up, only to be brushed off with a comment about studying for classes.

“Just a bit of light reading left to finish.” 

He’d bid her goodnight just as many, hoping to get some sleep. But only after she’d off-handedly promised him to retire soon. He had lost count somewhere around the fifth or sixth time on the first night, his brain far too tired to function properly. 

He didn’t know how she managed to look so well rested, but he was caught somewhere between being thankful that she was at least getting some sleep, or worried over the fact that she could be used to so little sleep already that it hardly affected her. 

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice as his body began to slowly lose the battle of wills he was fighting to stay awake, his eyes buckled under the exhaustion, and his body slumped over in slumber. 

The classroom doors opened with a bang, Professor Snape observantly none too pleased to be present entered the room with a flourish of his black robes pulled out his wand as all eyes turned towards him. With a flick of his wrist, the window shutters slammed shut, clamoring in grievance from such manipulation.

Harry jolted awake, his heart skipping several beats from the severe wake up call. 

‘I swear he just took years off my life.’

All went unnoticed by the professor as he stomped to the front of the room. Pointing to the ceiling which summoned a projector screen, stopping on a dime and another flourish he turned towards the students, and ordered.

"Open your books to page 394."

"Excuse me, Professor," Harry called for his attention as he adjusted himself to be sitting properly in his chair. "Where's Professor Lupin?"

"That's not really your concern is it, Potter," Snape snapped, beginning to pace back down the aisle.

"though it will suffice to say that you professor finds himself incapable of teaching at the present time."

Stopping next to a giant black projector which had seemingly raised itself from the floor, and faced the screen in front of them tapping the monstrosity with the tip of his wand and an image flickered to life in front of them. 

"Turn to page 394." He repeated, his eyes beginning to irately twitch when some students moved slower than the rest. 

One student in particular was flipping one page at a time, as if he wasn’t still several hundred pages away. He snapped his wand out quickly turning the text pages until it settled on the page he had demanded. 

‘Chapter 13: Nocturnal Beast, Section 3’

Werewolves.

"Werewolves?" Ron inquired once his book settled.

"But sir, we only just started learning about Grindylows, Red Caps and Hinkypunks. We're not meant to start learning about nocturnal beast for weeks." 

"Quiet," was his only retaliation, in no mood to prattle on about whose decision it was to jump ahead in the text to this particular subject. 

"Now who can tell me the difference between an Animagus and a Werewolf." Snape inquired, seeming restless as he walked away from the projector. He turned his back to the class, ignoring the hand that shot up into the air as he waited for an answer for mere moments.

"No one? How disappointing.” 

~

Class droned on, and on for everyone that day. Draco, focused on scribbling onto a piece of paper, while Ron kept stealing glances at the boy who seemed to be paying him no mind at all.

‘I think I preferred it when he was harassing me, at least then I wasn’t being ignored.’ Ron lamented as a paper swan flew past him landing delicately in front of Harry. Whipping his head around he looked back at Malfoy, who raised his eyebrows up and down quickly as an effortless smirk found its way to his lips. And not for the first time Ron found himself jealous and glaring at Harry, who always seemed to effortlessly get what he lacked. 

Glancing once more to the red haired Weasley, who was putting some serious effort in trying to see what was on the note he had sent flapping to Harry's desk; Draco had to fight hard against the chuckle that wanted nothing more than to ripple through his vocal cords and tare past his sealed lips.

‘Serves him right, for embarrassing me in front of Crab and Goyle. He’s lucky what he said didn’t get back to my father.’

Making eye contact with overly frustrated, and frosty blues. His laughter bounced around the room, which earned him another smack to the back of his head from Daphne, and cost Slytherin 5 points.

‘Stupid Weasly.’ 

~  
“There’s a quidditch game this week.” Harry muttered tiredly, his head resting in his arms while the trio sat down for dinner in the great hall. 

“Is that why you’ve been so restless all week?” 

“Not really… just, can’t sleep.” He huffed out a long sigh, Hermione's hand finding its way to his back, rubbing circles in a pattern that appeared more practiced that it was. The longer it was there the more Harry relaxed, as if this was what his racing mind had been craving all the nights that he couldn’t sleep. 

There was a startled choking sound then Ron piped up. 

“Oi, what you doing that for? Since when have you two been so touchy with each other?”

Her hand disappeared, and the tension returned. 

*Groan* “It’s fine Ron, I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it.” Harry dismissed much too tired to willingly deal with the argument that was coming.

If he had been more awake, or able to open his eyes for more than a few seconds he would’ve seen the way Hermione tensed, bit her lip and looked away ashamed. 

Ron, still shocked by the casual display of affection, hadn’t taken his eyes off of her however. When a deluded pink tone began to glimmer around the pair Ron could barely believe his eyes. 

“Oi, what's this now? Why are you turnin’ pink all of a sudden?”

“What do you mean we’re turning pink?” She asked after giving herself and Harry a quick once over. 

“Do you really not see,” He gestured to the air around them, drumstick in hand. “ all that?” 

Hermione glanced around them, her eyes finding nothing of noteworthy difference in the space that Ron had just indicated. 

“But… there’s nothing there… Are you feeling alright?”

His eyes widened, and the shimmering pink disappeared as if it was never there. 

‘What the bloody hell is happening?’

~  
It was a particularly rainy day for Quidditch, and thunderclouds coated the sky. Gryffindor was facing off against Hufflepuff, they were about half way through the game with Gryffindor leading by two goals.

Both seekers had spotted the snitch and as Harry went streaking past he could hear the shouts of encouragement from Hermione overall.

Emboldened by her cheers he went soaring through the clouds dodging in and out of lightning strikes, he was facing off neck and neck with the Hufflepuff seeker, a sixth year named Cedric Digory. Whose long limbs offered him the advantage when approaching the snitch.

Digory had almost snatched the snitch in his hand before the metal of his bracer clips zipped to life buzzing with building electrical charge. bThe next lightning strike hit him dead on and brought his mad dash for the win to a sudden and booming halt. His hair stood on end frizzled out in every direction, electricity seeming to zap around his form for a moment before Cedric fell back plummeting down towards the ground. 

Harry strained forward grasping at the small shiny snitch that was always just out of his reach, he could feel the tips of his fingers brush the edge and he willed himself to move a little closer, fingers closing around the small ball which flapped its wings quickly in protest. 

The air cooling around him, lightning flashed behind the puffy form of a grim in the sky.  
Clutching the snitch closer to him, a zing of terror ripping down his spine when his eyes caught sight of a dementor a few meters ahead in the sky. 

‘This isn’t good.’

The scream he heard this time as he felt himself slip from his broom, was much more familiar than the one he had heard on the train, it was the scream of his best friend. Glancing over at Hermione whose hair was damp and matted sticking to her face, stood in the pouring rain soaked through to the bone. Clutching at that golden chain around her neck, screaming out his name, the horrified shine in her eyes was the last thing he saw before his world went black.

~

Waking up the next day in the hospital wing, he wasn’t as surprised as he should’ve been to see a sleeping Hermione clutching tightly at his right hand. 

Her face was contorted in discomfort. And he felt the sudden need to touch her to ease her worries. Before the thought was even done processing, his hand was on her cheek, and his clothed thumb was brushing gently at her cheekbones.

A content sigh slipped from slumbering lips, and he felt her head shift to lean into his touch. His eyes were drawn to the exposed strip of chain that dipped down into her jumper, and his heart thundered in his chest. 

‘I could just pull it out right now and I would have my answer.’ His fingers twitch, his free hand reaching forward, barely brushing the warm chain.

*Ahem.* 

A/N: Well that’s chapter six, I know I’m horrible for making it a cliffhanger… but I’m sure you’ll survive!

Until next time kiddies! Toodles~


End file.
